


...But No Man Should Fall Without A Struggle

by Jadeys_World



Series: To Be Worthy... [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Team as Family, Time Travel, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 82,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28403058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadeys_World/pseuds/Jadeys_World
Summary: The fact Tony had been slammed with green light made him think time travel was most likely. But why would Peter do that? Why did Peter want him to be in 2016?’With no answers forthcoming, Tony and his team must carve their own path in 2016, doing what they think is right and hoping that’s enough. After all, Peter is relying on them.NOTE: I have raised the rating to mature and added a minor character death warning. It's not an Avenger, but they have an important role in the story. I am sorry to do it at this late stage, but I didn't see this death coming when I started posting. If you need to know who it is for reassurance, my email is on my profile, and I'm happy to tell you as long as it doesn't end up in comments as a spoiler.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: To Be Worthy... [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750603
Comments: 303
Kudos: 162





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Tuesday! Happy New Story Day!  
> I so excited about posting this story—however, as one person pointed out, I’m hyping it a lot so I may end up disappointing you. You’ve stuck with me so far, though, supporting me all the way, so I’m hoping that won’t stop now.  
> What excites me most about this story is the theme of the plot. I sincerely hope it excites you, too. It’s going to be a very different journey to the previous four stories.  
> Happy reading xxx

Ross checked his reflection in the mirror as he adjusted his tie and smoothed his hair. He could not believe how good it felt to be clean, to be dressed in real clothes, not to have his nose filled with the stench of goat dung, and to not have the animals themselves sniffing around his feet.

He was in an empty apartment somewhere, though he had no idea where, nor did he know what had happened to the apartment’s previous occupants. After the painful and stomach twisting sensation of travel, he’d found himself in a bedroom, facing a window that gave a view of an anonymous city that could be anywhere in the world. He'd taken clothes from the closet, which seemed to be a good enough fit, and then had gone into the bathroom to scrub himself clean, which had taken a long time.

The difference between this place and where he had been was vast. He did not know how long he had spent on the accursed planet the Asset had dumped him on, but it had been long enough to incite a furious desire for revenge, the revenge Ego was going to enable him to achieve.

“What do I do?” he asked, making his way back into the bedroom and standing by the window. “When do we kill the Asset?”

 _‘We cannot kill him yet,’_ she replied. _‘I already tried. The Stones have chosen him, betrayed me completely, so he is essentially immortal now unless they choose otherwise, which they will not. Even targeting him in a multitude of realities and times will not be enough. We have to go back to the beginning and change his path, change the circumstances, so he is not able to bear them.’_

Ross sputtered. “I can’t kill him? But you know what he did to me!”

_‘What he did to me was worse. He took the Infinity Stones out of my reach. My banishment lasted longer than you can ever imagine, and the ally I chose to free me failed. Thanos was given a mission, and he held the Stones, but he used them for himself, not for me. His petty desire to create balance doomed me to even longer in that place. I do not know how I was freed, as it was not Thanos, but I assume the child did something that weakened the barriers. That is not important. What matters is the opportunity I have now to change things.’_

“Change what?”

_‘The circumstances. The Stones found him Worthy, and I see in your mind when it happened. That is not only ridiculous, an insult, but it is also impossible. No one should be Worthy of them but me. Only I can bear them._

“Apparently not,” Ross muttered.

 _‘What did you say?’_ The question was asked with a sharp spike of pain in his head, as if a nail was being driven into his skull.

“Nothing,” he gasped. “I said nothing.”

_‘Good. You would do better to say nothing in future, too.’_

“I’m sorry.”

_‘As you should be. I will not tolerate disrespect from you. Now, it is time to act. From what I have glimpsed in your mind, I can see that the child was formed by circumstance to be what the Stones wrongly perceived as Worthy. Your mission is to change that. You were in a position of power before, weren’t you?’_

“I was the most powerful man in the world—The President of the United States!”

_‘No, before that, before Thanos came, you felt powerful; I can see it in your memories.’_

“I was, I suppose, as Secretary of State. But if you need me to be powerful, you’ve got to make me President again.”

_‘No! That is not what I need. Your greatest power came from what followed Thanos; the child was already gone then. I need you in a place in which he can be influenced and changed. Tell me, where do you think his power comes from?’_

Ross didn’t know. He’d paid no attention to the Asset before he’d received that report from Wakanda. Spider-Man had barely been a blip on Ross’ radar. His targets had been The Avengers. All he knew was that Spider-Man was reported to have been in Berlin when Stark and his team had battled Rogers’.

_‘I need you to know. Find out.’_

“How?” he asked. “I can’t exactly Google his origin story.”

_‘No, but you can live it. I will take you somewhere you can change him and create a new path that will not lead him to the Stones. What makes him Worthy must be changed.’_

“And what made him Worthy?”

_‘Nothing, but I suppose in their eyes it was his purity and goodness of heart, his strength. I need you to break him.’_

“How do I do that? He’s got the Stones now. I tried to break him before, but I failed!”

_‘Which is why I will take you back, before the Stones, before Thanos. What was the crucial moment for you? Where did your power come from?’_

Ross considered. “Before my election, my power came in 2016—May 3rd—when that derelict Ellis made me Secretary of State. Everything that followed was power.”

_‘Then I will take you there. Your mission is power again, but not of the same kind. We are going to find the child, observe him, find what makes him strong.’_

“And then what?”

_‘Then we’re going to change the circumstances. I want him weak and insecure. I want him Unworthy. I want you to find a way to break him down completely.’_

“Do I get to kidnap him again?” he asked hopefully.

_‘No. As you have said, that failed before. You are going to find a different way to do it, a subtle way. Take his strength away. Make him weak for me. Put him in a position in which The Stones will never believe him Worthy of them. Do you understand?’_

“I do.”

_‘Good. Then prepare yourself.’_

Ross took a breath, closed his eyes, and then felt a rush of warmth spread over him. A concerned voice reached him, and his name was spoken in a tone that indicated it wasn't the first time.

He opened his eyes and saw he was in a room that used to belong to him. President Matthew Ellis sat opposite him, the vast polished desk of the Oval Office between them. “Thaddeus? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Ross said smoothly. “I am fine.”

“You seemed a little… Never mind. Do you have an answer for me? Will you accept, become my Secretary of State?”

Finally connecting where he was in time, knowing what it meant and what would follow, a broad smile spread across Ross' lips, and he said, "Mr. President, nothing would give me more pleasure than that.”

He was in place, the devastation in Lagos was happening right now, and his path was clear ahead of him. He had the power he needed, though a more subtle kind now to what he’d had as President, and he would use that against the Asset. With fewer eyes on him than there had been when he had the most power, he could move in the shadows, find the right allies. He would play his part with the Avengers, put those events in place, and then find the Asset. 

He was going to break Spider-Man. 


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!  
> I’m not going to hype how great 2021 will be, as we all did that for 2020 and look what happened. Let’s just say we’ve got a brand new year to look forward to, and I will be filling it with fic for you.

Rhodey's eyes cracked open, and he checked the clock beside the bed, groaning when he realized what the time was. He'd slept past nine, and he was supposed to switch out with Wanda and Vision at eight in Peter's room. They all took turns during the night, breaking the hours of darkness into shifts so they all got enough sleep. Tony took his shifts on alternate days from midnight until four so that he could still see Morgan to bed and spend some time with Pepper before moving to the sleeper chair beside Peter's hospital bed.

There was a med team on duty all night, so Peter was always under expert care, but they all wanted one of his family to be with him. It had been that way for the two weeks since Peter came home, gravely injured. If he woke, _when_ he woke, they wanted a familiar face to be there with him.

Helen and her colleagues didn't expect Peter to wake yet, not from the activity they saw on the scans and EEG, though they mostly showed the Stones. His state of unconsciousness was not as deep now as it had been in the beginning, though. He reacted to pressure pain, and he sometimes triggered the vent as he took over breathing for himself.

He was recovering; slowly but surely, Peter was coming back to them.

Rhodey sat on the edge of the bed and said, “Friday, can you apologize to Wanda and Vision for me. Tell them I’m on my way now.”

“Wanda and Vision have already been relieved,” she reported. “Captain Rogers took over for them after his morning run.”

“Good,” Rhodey said. “Tell him I’ll be there soon.”

He went into the bathroom and hurried through his morning shower, then stood in front of the mirror to shave and brush his teeth. When done, he dressed and made his way into the kitchen, intending to grab a coffee and a quick bite to eat. Upon entering, Rhodey found Bruce at the table with a huge bowl of scrambled eggs in front of him, which he was working his way through with a fork that looked hilariously small in his massive hand.

“Morning,” he said cheerfully, flashing Rhodey a smile. “Late night?”

“Not really,” Rhodey said, running a hand over his face. “I just slept through my alarm.”

Bruce nodded knowingly. “You probably needed the sleep. You’ve been running yourself ragged. Everyone has.”

"You included," Rhodey pointed out, knowing Bruce was as worried about Peter as the rest of them, and that he was putting in the hours to be with him, too.

Bruce's lips quirked into a smile. "True. But we've all got to do better for ourselves. We're no good to Peter if we burn out. He’s got the best medical team in the country looking after him, all experts in their fields and trained in treating enhanced humans. He’s in good hands."

“I know,” Rhodey said, a touch defensively. "It's just hard when he's a kid, and he's so hurt, to trust someone else to be there."

Bruce considered him a moment, then said, "You're not wrong. We all feel it, but this is about the long game. The facts of medicine say it’s going to be a while until he’s back with us properly, so we’ve got to treat it like a marathon, not a sprint.”

“That’s easier to say when you forget he’s got a little sister who has no idea what’s happened to him and that can’t understand why he’s not come home yet. And…” he added pointedly, “we’ve got a huge threat on the horizon that he’s the best person to face.”

Bruce's face fell. "I know. Tony says Peter’s confident she, it, whatever you call Ego, isn't going to strike yet, so we have time. The Stones seemed to think it would take time for her to find a vessel to form them as Nemesis, and that’s the threat to us."

“We hope we have time, but we’ve no idea how and when they’ll strike. If they come for him again now, Peter’s helpless. He’s protected all of us, but he couldn’t protect himself from being crushed when he faced them before.”

“I know,” Bruce said, a shadow of worry on his face.

Rhodey sighed, the thoughts troubling him once again, and said, “I’m going to head over to see him.” 

He poured a coffee into a travel mug, grabbed a protein bar from the cupboard, and carried both out of the room, through the corridors, and toward the med bay. He took quick bites of the protein bar as he walked so that he was crumpling the wrapper and stuffing it in his pocket when he reached Peter’s room and entered.

It was busier there than he’d expected to find it. Natasha sitting on the table over from Peter's bed with a Stark Pad in her hands, which she was scrolling through and apparently trying to choose a song as a few lines would play before she shook her head and changed it; Steve was on the sleeper chair; and Bucky was sitting on the end of Peter's bed, a book open on his lap, which he stopped reading aloud from when Rhodey came in.

“Look who’s finally awake, bud,” Bucky said, squeezing Peter’s ankle.

“Morning, Pete,” Rhodey said, crossing to the bed, patting Peter’s hand, and then pulling up a seat beside Steve. “How are you doing?”

“He had a good night,” Steve reported. “His heart rate was stable all night, which makes it twenty-four hours like that. Everything else is okay, and…” he grinned. “Check this out.”

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Tony called from the door, rushing in with green smoothie in one hand and a plated sandwich in the other. “I want to show him." He set down his drink and plate, crossed to Peter's bedside to kiss his cheek and greet him, then gestured Bucky off the bed.

“Show me what?” Rhodey asked.

“Watch,” Tony said with an enigmatic smile.

He pulled back the blankets from Peter’s feet and tugged off the fluffy white sock from his left foot. With a wink and grin at Rhodey, he ran his fingertip from Peter’s heel to toes, frowned, and then did it again with a little more force and a muttered, “Come on, kid. Don’t let me down.”

Rhodey gasped, then grinned as he saw what Tony was showing him. Peter’s toes were twitching in response to the pressure.

“His spine is healing!” Rhodey said, relief and wonder rushing through him.

“Yep,” Tony said smugly, putting Peter’s sock back on and covering his feet. “They spotted it on routine checks last night, and it’s getting stronger.” He patted Peter’s knee. “He’s rocking it.”

Rhodey gave a shaky and exhilarated laugh. He’d had nightmares about Peter’s spinal injury not healing.

Though he lived a full life with his injuries, fuller than he ever could have imagined thanks to Tony, Rhodey had not wanted to see Peter tethered to braces to walk. This, the first sign that he really was going to heal all the way, took a huge weight off his chest.

Bucky returned to the end of the bed as Tony perched beside Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder in a way that looked both comforting and proprietary.

“How’s Morgan and Pepper?” Rhodey asked.

A small frown line appeared between Ton’ys brows. “Morgan’s getting impatient. She wants me to call Peter and tell him to come home. We’ve told her he’s out of cell service, but she doesn’t understand why I can’t just use Friday to find him. She misses him.”

“We all do,” Steve said quietly.

Though Peter was there technically, and he had reached out to Tony in his dreams twice, it wasn’t the same. They couldn’t talk to him properly nor share anything that was happening around him. It was like Peter was in an impenetrable bubble, even though he was in the same room.

Helen entered, took in Tony and Bucky on the bed, and said, “You know we’ve talked about this before, both of you. If Peter were to have an emergency—”

“We’d be off the bed and out of the way in a heartbeat,” Tony said. “Until that happens, if it happens, we’re going to be close.”

She sighed and said, “I can see there’s no point arguing. I have good news, though. The swelling in Peter’s brain is now resolved and is showing no signs of increasing pressure again, so we’re going to stop the mannitol drip at last. We will also run another PET scan to see if we can see anything apart from the light show.”

There were murmurs of relief, and Tony gave Peter’s hand a squeeze.

“Good work. Bud,” Bucky said.

“And…” Helen went on, “we’re going to try weaning him off the ventilator. He’s triggering it frequently on his own, so we know he can. We’ll start by slowing the ventilator and seeing if he takes over. If that goes well, we’ll remove the tube and let him breathe for himself on supplemental oxygen.”

Rhodey bowed his head and let out a huge sigh of relief. There was so much good news for them now. Peter was doing so well. Rhodey was proud of him for what he’d achieved already. It was these signs that showed he was fighting his way back to them. 

“We need a little time to prepare the scan, but someone will be in to give Peter his bed bath soon, so take some time with him while you can.” Helen said, and then slipped out of the room, leaving all gathered there feeling lighter than they had for weeks.

"I'll go tell the others," Natasha said, getting to her feet and making for the door. She stopped on the threshold, and then moved back as the heart monitor attached to Peter began to speed. Tony and Bucky jumped off the bed, and everyone moved away.

“It’s okay, Peter,” Tony said, tone soothing, though his face was frantic. “You’re fine.” 

Peter's back arched from the bed, and there was a sick gagging and rasping sound, and then Rhodey was thrown backward by a flooding green light. He hit the wall hard and slumped down to the floor. His roving eyes told him everyone in the room had suffered the same fate.

Peter’s voice screamed in his mind, frantic and scared, _“You have to!”_

Confused and scared, Rhodey looked around and saw that Tony, Bucky, Natasha, and Steve were wide-eyed and their faces were frozen in what looked like pain, and then, in unison, they collapsed sideways, crumpling to the floor with green light rippling over them.

“What happened?” Helen asked, running through the door and going straight to Peter’s bedside to examine the machines which were still frantically beeping. More medics flooded in after her, and they approached Tony, Steve, Bucky, and Natasha, who were all obviously unconscious.

Rhodey looked between Tony's unconscious form and Peter's face and said, "I have no idea what he did. It was green…"

“It was what?” Helen asked.

Rhodey raked a hand over his face. "I don't know…" His voice came weakly. "I don't know what he did."

Though from the light he’d seen and the Stone he knew that color applied to, he thought his friends might have just been sent away from him to do whatever it was Peter meant with that mental scream. “ _You have to t!”_

But what did they have to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… They’re off! Tony, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky are going to feature heavily in this story as they’re the ones in 2016, but we’ll have appearances from all other familiar characters there, just not the versions of them we’ve grown used to seeing so far.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday!  
> I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep up twice-weekly updates, but since the last chapter had a cliff-hanger ending, I thought it was fair to post today. I hope 2021 is treating you well so far.  
> You know, I’ve been beating myself up lately about how long it’s taking me to write this story (I was working on it the entire time I was posting No Man, since Mid-September) but something occurred to me today—It’s long. Really long. I’ve written about 90k now, and that’s all of Story III and half of Story IV combined.  
> This series is a passion project to me. Yeah, sometimes it’s tough, but I get your comments and kudos, and that keeps me going. I have a full timeline plotted out for the rest of the story, and I am expecting it to be at last 130k long. I’m working on Arc two and there are two more to come (though the final arc is much shorter. Thank you all for sticking with me, thank you for reviewing and sending PMs of encouragement. You’re all wonderful people and I am so grateful to share this journey with you.  
> I’m done rambling. Read and (hopefully) enjoy xxx

Steve jolted as though given an electric shock, and he sucked in a huge and shaky breath. His heart was racing, and his body felt like it had been immersed in icy water; the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck were standing on end.

Peter, his back arched and attached machines screaming, was gone, as were Bucky, Natasha, Tony, and Rhodey. He was no longer in the med bay—now in the cockpit of the Quinjet, whipping over the clouds and ocean below instead.

He’d either been jumped out of Peter’s room to here, or he’d lost time somehow.

“What happened?” he asked weakly, then raised his voice. “What happened?”

“Steve?” Sam’s voice called from behind him. “You okay?”

Steve set the jet’s controls on autopilot and walked into the back of the plane where Natasha, Wanda, and Sam were seated. They watched him cautiously, brows furrowing when he said, “Where’s Queens?”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “Queens? Uh… a borough in New York.”

Steve stared at him in shock and then pinched his arm hard. It hurt, which dispelled the idea this was a dream or hallucination.

“I… I don’t…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes and rose from her chair, came to grip his elbow, and led him back toward the cockpit. "Just breathe," she whispered.

Steve obeyed, feeling the deep breath he tried to draw battle against the panting rhythm he’d been unaware of. She pushed him into the copilot’s seat, took the pilot’s seat, checked the controls and course, then turned to him and said, voice too low to be heard by the others. "Calm down, Steve."

“But, Nat, something’s happening! I wasn’t here!”

“I know,” she said calmly. “Neither was I. But we’re here now, and we can’t freak them out.”

Steve blinked at her, hope stirring in his chest. “Queens?”

She nodded. “Peter Parker. Spider-Man. We were in his room.”

Relief that he was not alone rushed through him, and he closed his eyes. “Thank god.”

“I don’t think He’s the one you need to be thanking. I think this is a Peter Parker sponsored adventure.”

Steve opened his eyes, nodded, and felt himself calming. He was a little embarrassed by how he'd reacted. True, it wasn't every day you found yourself jumping from your kid brother's bedside to the cockpit of a jet, but it wasn't the strangest thing to ever happen to him.

This was nothing compared to battling Thanos.

“And it’s not your first time with time travel,” Natasha said.

“Did I say that aloud?” he asked, then the meaning of her words reached him. “Wait, what? Time travel?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Steve, catch up. Look at me. Do I look like I did five minutes ago?”

Steve stared at her, taking in what she meant. There were none of the fine lines around her mouth that had been there before; her hair was not blonde; her eyes were different.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

She smirked. “Language.”

“How did this happen?”

“I thought we already went over that. Time travel. We were slammed with green light from the kid that’s in control of the Time Stone while he was having some kind of medical crisis.”

“Where are we then?” he asked.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Guessing from who we’re with and how they look, the course the jet’s on, we’re on our way back from Lagos.”

“Back? No!” He cursed again. “Why now? Why not before? We could have changed it.”

“You know Peter better than me. “Why do you think he would have chosen now?”

Steve massaged his temples, a stress-induced headache building. “Queens would want us to change it, but I don’t know that we can. He changed our past when he came back to us, but that was him—he actually has the Stones. Whether or not we can… But if we can’t, why would he send us back at all?”

The last question was framed to himself, but Natasha answered.

“I don’t know,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “And now’s not the time to pick it apart. Wanda is a mess right now; she needs us. We’re heading home to a PR nightmare after what just happened. We’ve got to treat it like a mission.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, but we don’t know what the mission is. He said we have to do something. What do we have to do?”

"I’ve got no idea, yet. The first thing we have to do is to find out if we're the only ones here. We were all thrown away from him: me, you, Tony, Rhodey, and Bucky. We could all have been sent here."

Steve’s breath caught. “Bucky! He’s in Romania. He’s alone. If it happened to him, he’ll be freaking out.”

"Don't underestimate him. He's probably handling it better than you. Just because he hasn't gone backward in time before, he's jumped ahead years with Hydra for each mission. You get yourself under control, get us back to the compound, then we'll start making calls."

Steve nodded and concentrated on calming himself, getting his mind behind the mission. “Yeah. Okay. Got it.”

Natasha patted his shoulder and started back toward the back of the plane, then she stopped as Steve’s phone rang. He picked it up, recognizing that it was an outdated model—or perhaps a currently dated model; it was confusing. He checked the caller ID and said, “It’s Tony.”

“Since he didn’t call the last time we were going through this, I think that means we’ve just found someone else that was sent back. That’s good. Talk to him, tell him what’s going on.” 

Steve nodded, connected the call, and took a breath. “Tony…”

xXx

Head swimming, legs shaking, Tony's eyes cleared, and he took in his surroundings.

He was no longer in the med bay; he was in a long corridor in front of an elevator. Instead of the sounds of the machines jumping and screeching as Peter arched from the bed, there was a fierce voice speaking words he couldn't make out. Instead of the faces of his friends and son, there was a woman whose face, among others, had haunted his nightmares until the memory of his own son dying in his arms on Titan replaced all others.

His mind grappled to make sense of what was happening, how he was seeing what he was, and his hand snapped out automatically and caught the woman’s wrist as she reached into her purse.

“Sorry,” he said breathlessly. “I don’t… What’s happening?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s happening? What’s happening is that I am going to tell you something and show what you took from me.”

Tony looked around again. “I know this,” he muttered. “This has happened already.”

She gave him a sharp glance and then went on with what he suspected was a well-rehearsed speech. “I work for the State Department. Human Resources. I know it's boring, but it enabled me to raise a son. I'm very proud of what he grew up to be.”

She shoved the photo at him, and he looked down at the smiling face that had also visited him in his nightmares.

“His name was Charlie Spencer. You murdered him—in Sokovia. Not that it matters in the least to you. You think you fight for us. You just fight for yourself!”

Tony shook his head wordlessly.. He was at a loss to know what to do.

The woman was still talking, her words rushing over him, “Who's going to avenge my son, Stark? He's dead, and I blame you…”

Tony shook his head to clear his reeling mind, took a deep breath, and said what he had not been able to say before, when he was too overwhelmed to speak—not that he wasn't overwhelmed now. "I’m sorry. Believe me, I never intended for anyone to get hurt—Ultron was created to protect. I know that means nothing to you, because people did get hurt, your son was killed. Nothing I can say or do will make that right. But I am so sorry, truly."

“It won’t!” she snapped. “Nothing will ever be right for me again! you’re your words mean nothing!”

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, she had turned and marched away, head held high but shoulders shaking with the sobs he could hear.

The elevator door opened, and Tony walked inside, his head swimming with shock and confusion. With numb fingers, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket and pulled it out. As soon as he tapped the phone to life, Friday spoke up. "Boss, are you okay? I am detecting an increased heart rate and disrupted oxygen levels."

Tony took a deep breath, feeling the air flooding his lungs, and he said, “Friday, where am I?”

“You are at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. You were here to give a speech, which you have now done."

“I’ve done this, though,” he muttered to himself.

“Yes, you have given your speech. Has the confusion over Miss. Potts' attendance distressed you?”

“No, that’s not it. Okay, think, Stark… What’s the date?”

“It is May 3rd…" Friday replied

“But what…” He couldn’t believe he was asking this question. “What year?”

“2016, Boss. Do you need to see a doctor? Would you like me to call for assistance?”

“No, no. I just need to think.”

It was 2016, which meant Peter had sent him back in time; either that or he was having some kind of psychotic event. The fact he’d been slammed with green light made him think time travel was more likely. But why would Peter do that? Why did Peter want him to be in 2016?

He took another breath and tried to think around his shock, going over what had happened. He’d not been alone when the light had hit. Rhodey, Steve, Bucky, and Natasha were with him. Were they sent back, too?

“Friday, put in a call to Rhodey,” he instructed.

He brought the phone to his ear and waited as it rang. Rhodey picked up after a four rings and said, voice terse, “Tone, this isn’t a good time.”

“It’s for me either,” Tony said, running a hand through his hair. “Tell me he did it to you, too.”

“Tell you what? Look, I’ve got to be in front of the general in a minute for a War Machine update. I’ll call you back, okay?”

“Sure, okay. One more thing—if I said Peter to you, would you know who I’m talking about?”

“No. What’s going on?” His voice was concerned now.

“I’m trying to figure that out. I’ll call you later.

“Tony, talk to me. Are you okay?” Rhodey asked urgently.

“I will be, I think. I’ll call you.”

Before Rhodey could say another word, Tony ended the call and instructed Friday to call Steve, his next possible companion for this misadventure.

Steve picked up after only a few rings, and his voice was wary. “Tony…”

“Steve, if I said Peter to you, what would you think?”

There was a crackle on the line as Steve sighed. “I’d think Queens. Oh, thank god. Me and Nat are here, too.”

Tony closed his eyes, absorbed the relief, and said, “Rhodey’s not, though, and he was in the room with us.”

“Bucky was with us too, but we’ve no idea if he’s back. I’ve not got a number for him. I’m not sure what to do. You know _when_ we are, right?”

“Yeah. 2016. You’re in Lagos.”

“Afraid not. We’re on our way back now. We came too late to change it.”

“So that’s not what we’re here for. But we’ve got to do _something_. Pete said it, and he wouldn’t have done this otherwise, not without a damn good reason.” Tony grappled to work out what they needed to do next, but his mind was disobliging. “We’ve got to check on Bucky, he said eventually. “If you’re on your way home from Lagos now, it means the eyes of the world are on you. You can’t go after Bucky without risking being followed. And…” He cursed.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Ross,” Tony spat. “It was on the morning news. He’s Secretary of State now. He’s going to be coming for us, Steve. We’ve got to be so careful. We can’t give him an excuse to lock us up, and he _can’t_ find Bucky.”

“Damn. Okay. But we can’t leave Bucky alone. You’ll have to go to him, Tony. I’ll send the address. Ross won’t be watching you yet; he’s going to be focused on us after what happened. Get to Bucky, find out if he’s back, too. If he isn’t… I don’t know what to do. If we leave him out there, he’s at risk when Zemo sets him up. We’ve got so much to do, Tony.” His voice was taut with stress.

“I know, but we can,” Tony said, his voice sounding far more confident than he felt. “I’ll go straight to Bucky now. You guys get back to the compound and lay low. We’ve got to—”

He stopped and took a breath. Thoughts of what they were facing and the state they’d left Peter in were starting to overwhelm him again.

“Baby steps, Tony,” Steve said, voice calmer now. “Get to Bucky and bring him back to the compound. We’ll hide him there. Whatever else happens, we need to be together. I know you’re freaking out about Queens, I am, too, and you know Bucky is if he’s here, too, and he’s alone.”

“Pete looked so bad, Steve,” Tony said quietly. “What’s happening to him.”

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted “But right now, we can do anything to help him. We’ve got to take care of each other. Peter is trusting us to do something, and when we’re together, we can work out what it is and how we do it so we can get back there and take care of him ourselves.”

"Yes," Tony said, seizing on Steve's steady voice. "We'll do it."

“We will. Call when you find Bucky. If he’s back, too, he’s going to know why you’re there. If not…”

“If not, he’s not going to stop and listen to me; he’s going to run, and that’ll put him at risk.”

There was a heavy sigh on the line, and Steve said, "Then you have to find a way to lock him down until I can talk to him and explain. Don't let him run. I know you can do this, Tony."

“Not without risking hurting him.”

Steve’s voice was pained as he replied. “Then hurt him. Go in the suit. It’s what we’ve got to do for Bucky’s own good and for Queens’.”

Tony nodded, though Steve couldn’t see it. He could lock Bucky down without hurting him too much if he was smart about it, and whatever happened, Bucky was tough and would heal. As little as he wanted to hurt his friend, it might be what he had to do. This was about protecting him from worse, and it was about Peter.

Peter had hurt himself to send them here, wanting them to do something, and they would. They had to. Whatever Peter needed from them, it was obviously important, and Tony would not let his son down again. 

xXx

Bucky struggled to his feet and looked around. He recognized where he was at once: the kitchen of the apartment in Bucharest he’d hidden in before Steve found him., He could hear the street sounds outside, and the radio was playing a song he didn’t know.

He placed a hand on his heaving chest and tried to make sense of what was happening.

The song came to an end, and the DJ's accented voice said, "We have breaking news of the situation in Nigeria. It has been confirmed that The Scarlet Witch has caused the death of twenty-six people, eleven of whom were relief aid workers from the African nation of Wakanda, during an Avengers operation in Lagos. There is outcry from around the world and calls upon the United Nations to take action.”

Bucky sucked in a breath and checked the calendar on the wall on which he marked each day passing in an effort to ground himself in the present instead of in the past: in Bucky Barnes and not The Winter Soldier.

It was May 3rd, 2016.

Bucky’s legs gave way, and he dropped down on his lumpy couch. He brought his hands to his hair to tug on the long strands. He felt utterly lost.

He was seven years in his past, and he had no idea why. There had to be something Peter wanted him to do, but what could it be?

Bucky was a wanted man, hiding in Romania from the US government, who wanted him captured and tried for his crimes. It was bigger than just the USA. Governments and law enforcement the world over had a vested interest in bringing in The Winter Soldier, as his crimes for Hydra were not limited to US soil.

And he was alone.

“What do I do, bud?” he asked the empty room. “What do you need?”

He half expected Peter to appear, rainbow eyes sympathetic to the plight he'd left Bucky in and answers ready for him. No one appeared, though. He was alone in the small, dank apartment. The smells of the mici restaurant below him were permeating through the floor, the busy street outside could be heard through the window, and the radio was still interrupting songs and music with updates from Lagos. It was reported that the Avengers had left the city, and envoys from the US government were flying in to help discuss what had happened and to deal with the clean-up. It was announced that a statement from King T’Chaka was imminent.

“Why now, Peter?” Bucky asked. “Why not a day earlier, or a week?”

If Peter had timed the moment he was sending Bucky to a little better, he could have averted this. He wasn't sure how, as he didn't know what to do now either, but he might have had a chance. He could have averted the disaster in Lagos and saved those lives. Had Peter sent him too late intentionally, knowing that the incident had to happen through his knowledge of the Stones, or was he just throwing Bucky in time blindly and hoping his final message made sense.

_“You have to!”_

What did he have to do, though?

One thing he knew was that whatever it was he needed to do, it wasn't here in Bucharest. He needed to get back to the USA, and that meant an uncomfortable journey. The safest way for him to get across Europe and then stowaway on a freight ship across the Atlantic. That was how he'd gotten out of America two years ago. It had taken weeks, though, and he couldn't wait that long. Peter, the little brother who he would die for, needed something from him, something important enough to send him through time, so he had to get to him now.

That meant he was going to have to shed some of the gentle nature Peter had created in him and resort to violence. He had no choice but to hurt people this time. He only hoped Peter forgave him when he knew.

Bucky had prepared for this eventuality, the need to flee, when he settled in Bucharest two months ago. He’d tracked various people and stolen and altered their ID cards for himself. This mission was going to require the role of Cristian Luca and his job as a baggage handler at Aurel Vlaicu International Airport.

He ran a hand through his hair, got to his feet, and said, "Okay, bud, I'm coming."

His belongings were always ready for him to move on in a moment if his cover was ever blown. His cash kept in his boot and IDs in a pack under the floorboard, so he punched through the boards, grabbed the bag, and strapoed it to his chest. All that was left h to do was pull on the leather gloves that covered both his flesh and titanium hand from others and his jacket. He checked himself in the mirror, pulled on a baseball cap that would cast a shadow over his face, and shouldered his duffel as he walked out of the door and down the steps to the street.

His apartment was only five minutes’ walk away from the airport, chosen for location and cheapness—most people didn’t want to live close to the sound of planes taking off and landing if they had a choice. He strode along the streets, taking turns without needing to think, as he had practiced this route many times in case of exposure.

When he reached the airport, he took the ID from his pocket and pasted on a weary smile to play his role at the security gate. Luckily, it was relatively busy with an upcoming shift change, and he got in line behind a man with a buzz cut who was talking to someone on the phone about meeting for drinks the next day.

Bucky tuned out his conversation and focused on his surroundings as the queue slowly moved along to the security checkpoint for airport staff to get in and out of work. His clothes were suitable as uniforms were donned inside the airport staff base, and his casual jeans and leather jacket over t-shirt didn't stand out among the other workers’ clothes.

When it was his turn, he scanned his card and nodded to the man sitting at the desk. Luckily, he wasn't focused on his job, instead perusing a newspaper in front of him. He merely glanced up and nodded as Bucky passed through the open turnstile.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bucky followed a man into the building labeled in Romanian as staff quarters.

He had to bide his time and slip away at the right moment. He was in for an uncomfortable ride in the baggage hold, but if someone was transporting animals, it wouldn't be too cold.

If not, well, it wasn’t the first time he’d frozen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Now we know when they are. It's a slightly cruel place to begin, I know. A day earlier, Lagos could have been avoided. I couldn't do that, though, as it's events that follow that I'm most interested in. Also, as you will see later, there's certain things Peter can't change.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with me. I’ve noticed there are far fewer of you this time around, which I understand completely, so I’m extra grateful to those of you that are still here.

Tony unsnapped his seatbelt as they reached cruising altitude over Bucharest, looked out at the window at the city drifting below, and he sighed.

He'd had high hopes when he arrived at Bucky's apartment—or was hovel the right word? Those hopes had been dashed quickly. Bucky was not there, and he’d left in a hurry.

He'd not known if Bucky had been sent back with them by Peter, but Tony had planned to bring him back to the US either way. There was no way he would leave Bucky vulnerable and alone when he could be with them. And if he was sent back, too, they needed to be together to work out what Peter wanted from them.

He picked up his phone and called Steve. It was answered after only one ring, and Steve’s voice was urgent as he asked, "Did you find him?" without greeting.

"No. He'd already left. He was there until this morning, I'm sure, as I saw the calendar he'd been marking the days on. He might have seen me coming, I wouldn't be that surprised, but I've got a feeling he's back, too. He was slammed with the light like us. Just because Rhodey wasn't sent back, it doesn't mean Bucky wasn't."

Steve sighed. "Then where is he? You think he's making his way to us?"

"I'm pretty sure he's coming back to the States, but what he'll do then, I don't know. We can't even be sure he'll make it into the country unseen. I'll have Friday scan public surveillance."

"If we're not the first to see him…" Steve said, stress in his voice.

Tony swallowed hard. "I know."

It was a little strange for Tony to be in this position in this time. Bucky had been nothing to him at this point before, just Steve's target for tracking while Tony went on with his life. Now, he was facing the capture and loss of one of his best friends. They needed to find him.

Bucky would be committed to helping Peter, however that needed to be done, and would not put his safety or secrecy first. If someone like Ross got hold of him, Bucky would be locked up on the Raft for good.

"I'm on my way back now, Steve," he said. "Get some sleep; I'll do the same. We can all talk tomorrow." Another question occurred to him. "Have you told anyone else what's happening?"

"No. We figured we should wait until we all had a chance to talk, to work out what was going on together before we spoke to anyone else. Besides, we don't know how long we'll be here for. We could be gone in a few days."

"You really believe that?" Tony asked.

There was a long pause, then Steve said, "No. Until we know why Peter sent us here and do whatever he needs us to do, we're not going anywhere."

"I agree."

Tony said his goodbyes and hung up. It was late now, so he should get some sleep so that he had energy for whatever came in the morning. He reclined his seat and closed his eyes.

It was a long time before he could actually sleep, though.

xXx

Tony woke as the plane touched down at Kennedy and a stewardess shook his shoulder. "We've landed, Mr. Stark," she said.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face and yawned. "Yeah, thanks."

She slipped away, and he unsnapped his seatbelt, standing and stretching. He grimaced in anticipation of his spine popping as it did every morning, but the satisfying crackles didn't come.

He frowned for a moment and then huffed a laugh as he realized he wasn't quite the old man he'd been when he woke up the day before. He wasn't 54 years old now—he'd skipped back seven years. The aches and pains that had become part of his life weren't there anymore. It was a strange but satisfying thought. He was by no means a young man, not even now, but the five years of raising Morgan that had aged him physically while keeping him mentally young hadn't yet passed.

He had dreamed of Morgan. He'd been with her at the lake house, sitting on the deck with his feet waving lazily in the summer-warmed water. Morgan had been complaining as her legs were too short to reach the water, just the tips of her toes touching the surface.

He missed her already, and it had only been a day since he'd woken with her curled in the bed between him and Pepper, Spider-Albert clutched to her chest. He wondered when he would see her again—when he would see Pepper again.

In this time Peter had left him, they were on what Tony called a break and Pepper called a ceasefire and retreat. She had wanted him to give up Iron Man, and he had not been able to do it. He still couldn't do it. He knew what was coming, and he needed his suit to face it. If he gave it up, he would be helpless to protect the people that needed it.

He could only hope that Pepper would allow him back into her life. She had to, didn't she? Peter wouldn't have sent him back if it cost him the love of his life. Before, it had taken him being injured, exhausted, and hypothermic in hospital for her to come to him. That wouldn't happen this time, so something else must. 

That would _not_ happen again. No matter what came next, he knew he and Steve would not face each other in a Siberian Hydra base; the shield would not be plunged into the power core of his suit. 

The door of the plane was opened, and he walked off and down the steps to where a car was waiting for him. He'd not arranged it himself, which made him think one of his flight crew had done it. He was glad of it. He wanted to get to the compound to see Steve and Natasha, to be together to work out what had to happen next.

The door was held open for him by a chauffeur called Stan, one of his regulars now Happy had been promoted. Tony climbed in and said, "I need to go to the compound. I've got to…"

He stopped as something flickered in his chest. It wasn't that late now, so he could make a stop if he wanted. And he wanted. He wouldn't talk to Peter, not even let himself be seen, but if traffic wasn't too bad, he could see him on his way into school for a moment.

As much as he missed Morgan and Pepper, he wanted to see Peter even more as the last time he had, Peter had been in the middle of a medical crisis which had terrified him. He had no idea what was happening to Peter in the future, if time was passing for them or if it had frozen. What he did know was that he wanted to see his son healthy, happy, and free before he could turn his mind to their greater concerns.

Stan got in the front, and Tony leaned forward and said, "Head to Queens, Stan. Midtown High School. I'll give you directions once you're over the Triborough."

"Sure thing, Mister Stark," he said, starting the engine.

Tony pressed the button to raise the divider and sat back in his seat. He allowed the thought of seeing Peter to sustain him for the drive, making a conscious decision to think of nothing else until he'd had that gift.

Once he had seen his son, he would work out what had to happen next.

xXx

Bucky hadn't killed.

He reminded himself of that as he walked down the Queens' street, baseball cap pulled low over his face and head ducked down.

Getting on the plane in Romania had been less trouble than he'd expected, only needing to knock two people unconscious, but getting out in New York was harder. He'd had to stow himself in a cargo crate until he was off the plane and en route to a warehouse where he'd broken out and overpowered the driver and assistant, hopefully only leaving them with concussions.

Before Peter came into his life and found a place in his heart, Bucky would have killed to get away. But Peter's moral compass was so strong, his innocence despite his power so pure, that it had changed Bucky as a man. It made him want to be better.

If helping Peter meant ending lives, he would do it, but he would regret it and fight hard to avoid it as that was what Peter would want him to do. The kid he loved as a brother, the one that deserved the world, was who mattered most to Bucky now he was here. He would do whatever it took to serve the purpose he'd been sent back for.

He reached the corner of seventeenth and ninth and looked across the street he'd been directed to by a helpful elderly woman who had told him where to find Peter's school. It was a large building with a looming fence around it and high gates that were open now. Bucky stared for a moment, searching for a sign of Peter. It was early, though, and there were only a handful of kids there already.

He ducked into the recess between two buildings, in the shadows, and watched the gates.

As he waited, he mulled over what he was supposed to do. He didn't think Peter was back here, too, as he would have come to Bucky straight away. If he'd come back in person, he could have flown there in a heartbeat, and he wouldn't have come back the same way he'd sent Bucky—into his own body of the time. He knew it was that body because he still had the prosthetic arm Hydra had given him and not the vibranium model Shuri had made. Peter had said he could do this, send their consciousness back, which made sense if Peter didn't want two versions of Bucky here. 

But what did he want Bucky to do? He would do it, whatever it was, if he knew. He'd do anything Peter asked of him.

More students started to arrive, and Bucky's eyes roved them, searching for a flash of brown curls, a bright smile—his little brother. It didn't come for a long time, but he saw someone he did recognize from a photo in Peter's bedroom: it was Peter’s best friend, Ned. He was leaning against the fence, seeming to be waiting for someone, and Bucky thought it was the same someone he was waiting for.

His answer came when he saw a figure coming from the left, headphones in and phone in his hand. He was wearing a navy hoodie, and he had a red backpack over his shoulder.

It was Peter.

Bucky took an unconscious step forward, drawn towards him, and then he caught himself and ducked back into the alley. He wanted to go to him, to speak to him, but he knew he couldn't. His keen vision showed him Peter was not the Peter he knew in the future, as his eyes were a rich brown instead of rainbow; his hair was shorter and his face younger.

This was Peter before he'd been touched by the Avengers, before Tony; this was when Spider-Man just protected Queens.

A car drew up in front of his alley, disrupting his view of Peter, and he started to move, unwilling to lose the sight of Peter while he could have it. He'd gone only a few feet when the rear door of the car opened, and Tony climbed out.

Bucky felt a moment’s relief before he realized this wasn't his friend. This was Iron Man, the person that would lock him in The Raft without hesitation, the one that had come after him and Steve with his team to have him caught and locked up. 

Bucky started forward, aiming to slip past him, hurting him if he had to, but Tony called his name, threw his hands up, and said, "Peter Parker!"

Bucky froze and then exhaled in a rush. "I'm not the only one?"

Tony shook his head. "Me, you, Nat, and Steve, as far as we know. The only other person in the room with us was Rhodey, and he's not back."

Bucky ducked deeper into the alley again, his need to see Peter again momentarily banished, but Tony gestured him forwards. "Get in. I'll get you somewhere safe."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "Your driver?"

"Won't say anything. You're safer with me than you are out here alone. Don't forget how infamous you are right now, Bucky, and you don't have a pardon." He stepped to the side and held a hand out at the open door.

Bucky took a breath and moved forward, slipping into the back seat and sliding over as Tony got in beside him. He looked through the tinted window in time to see Peter and his friend walking up the steps and entering the school.

He felt a pang as Peter disappeared, but he made himself a vow that he would see him again soon. Right now, what was more important was finding out why he was back here with Tony, Natasha, and Steve, what they were supposed to do, and how they were going to make it happen.

"Uh… Mr. Stark," a tentative voice said from the front seat.

"This is Avengers business, Stan," Tony said firmly. "You see nothing, and I'll give you a generous bonus. Take us to the compound, private entrance."

"Yes, Sir."

Tony pressed a button, and the divider rose between them and the front of the car.

Bucky sat stiffly. "Will he tell anyone?"

"No," Tony said confidently. "I pay enough for loyalty, and I'll give him that bonus. Now, how the hell did you get here so fast? I came to Romania, but you were already gone."

"As soon as I realized what had happened, that I was back in 2016, I left. I stowed away on a plane and hid in a container until I was out of the airport."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "That must have been a rough journey. You know, I could have made it a little more comfortable."

"I didn't know you were back,” Bucky said. “I thought I was the only one. Probably stupid, yeah, but I was so full of what had happened to me, what Peter might need, that I didn't stop and think about the rest of you." He sucked in a breath. "What does he want from us, Tony? What do we have to do?"

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have no idea. It wasn't to change Lagos, as we arrived too late, unless he didn't control that. It could have been a mistake, I guess. What I do know is that, whatever it was, it was urgent enough that he couldn't wait to find a way to communicate with us properly first. He just sent us back. And look at what it did to him to do it. He was…"

"It was bad," Bucky murmured.

Tony flinched. "Worse than bad. God, I hope he's okay."

Bucky nodded his agreement. He wasn't sure how it worked for them in the future, the ones that had been left behind. Was time moving for them there while they were back here in 2016. He hoped not, because he wasn't sure what would happen to their bodies while their consciousnesses were here. He didn't like to think of Rhodey being in that room after they were sent back, dealing with Peter in a crisis and Tony, Bucky, Steve, and Natasha unconscious or worse.

"What are we going to do, Tony?" he asked.

"First, we're going to get you somewhere safe and hidden, then we'll all talk and find a way to work out why we're here."

"How? That wasn't our Peter at the school. He can't tell us."

Tony shook his head, a small smile curling his lips. "No, that wasn't my son—not yet anyway. But he wouldn't have done this if he didn't have a way to make us see what he wants. He's a smart kid, and he's trusting us. We've got to do whatever he needs us to do so we can go back."

"How long do you think that's going to take?"

Tony shrugged. "I've got no idea. Hopefully, not long, I miss Pepper and Morgan already, but I tell you one thing—" he locked eyes with Bucky, "I'm damn glad you're back here with me."

Bucky smiled slightly, thinking of the difference in the relationship they had in their future compared to what the real versions of themselves had now, and nodded. "Me too, Tony, me too."

He didn't think there were many other people he'd want to be on this ride with him than the people he did have.

They were his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… They're coming together. If you read my author's notes, you'll know this is a long story. There is so much to put in place before the main plot can begin. I know you're probably eager to get to Peter, but it's going to take time. The first arc of this story is more about Tony and the others as they work out what to do. I promise to try not to bore you, though, and there will be appearances from Peter.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday! I hope the week is being kind to you so far.   
> I didn’t plan to update again so soon, but Story V is coming along really well now. I’m doing the 100k 100 Day challenge with a group of writers on Facebook. The goal is to write 1k words every day for 100 days. Well, I’m doing that and more. We started January 1st and my word count is 38k. All of that is either content or plotting for Story V. I’m not sure how long this pace is going to last, therefore I can’t guarantee I’ll keep up the twice-weekly updates, but I will while I can.   
> Rambling over. Enjoy the chapter xxx

Steve's head snapped up as Friday announced, "Captain Rogers, Ms. Romanoff, Boss would like you to join him in his suite."

Natasha and Steve exchanged a look, and then got to their feet and started towards the door.

"Tony's here," Sam said, behind them on the couch. "Why does he want to see you alone?"

Natasha turned and, with perfect poise, said, "I don't know, but knowing Tony, it's going to be something stupid. Be grateful he doesn't want you, too."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, I guess."

Steve waved a hand, and they headed out of the common room, through the hall, past Wanda's room where she was hidden away, and then through to Tony's space.

Natasha knocked on the door and tried the handle, but it was locked.

"One moment please," Friday said, and after a moment added, "You can go in now."

"Tough security," Natasha muttered. "What's he hiding?"

"No idea," Steve replied.

They entered and closed the door behind them—Steve heard the lock click in place again—and then made their way to the living room.

The moment he caught sight of the occupants, Steve crossed the room and threw his arms around Bucky with a relieved sigh of, "Thank God, Buck."

Bucky embraced him in return, then moved to greet Natasha, who also looked relieved to see him.

"This is it," Tony said with a tone of relief. "I don't think anyone else was sent back. Rhodey definitely wasn't, and we were the only ones in the room. If anyone else was, I think we'd have heard from them by now."

"Agreed," Steve said. "Where did Tony find you, Buck?"

Tony chuckled. "He was at Pete's school."

Bucky smiled sheepishly. "I didn't know anyone else was sent back with me, which I see now is stupid, so I headed straight to Peter. It's not _him_ , though, not our Peter. His eyes are brown, and he looked different, way more carefree than I've ever seen him." He smiled slightly. "He's even younger than before."

"He is," Tony said. "Pete's not back here, too. He would have come to us if he was—he'd have told us what he needed us to do. We have to figure he's still in 2023 with everyone else."

"Which means we don't know what he wants from us," Natasha said.

"We don't," Tony agreed. "So we've got to find out."

"We've got other things to do, maybe beforeany of that," Natasha said. "Ross is coming with the Accords soon, and Zemo is out there to frame Bucky."

Bucky nodded. " What are you going to do about the Accords?"

Steve looked at Tony. He already knew what he was going to do, but he wanted to know how Tony felt about it. It was this issue that had torn The Avengers apart before. He didn't think that would happen again, they couldn't let it, but it would be a roadblock if they were on opposing sides of the politics.

Tony raked a hand through his hair. "We don't sign." His voice was pained, as if this decision was hurting him.

"We don't?" Natasha asked, quirking a surprised eyebrow.

"No. I thought we'd be able to make changes last time once we'd signed, but that was a risk. We never had a chance to try before everything went to hell, and then it was too late. It was hard for me to even get an inch from them when I was trying to alter them after everything had happened. We need bargaining power this time around. If we sign, they'll have all the power."

"Okay," Natasha said slowly. "But they're not going to hold back on them until we do sign. We're going up against over one-hundred countries on this, guys. They will ratify them, and we'll be forced to stand down. They'll stop us acting until we've signed, and even then, we can only do it on their orders if we're outside the US."

"I know," Tony sighed. "And I hate that. If we do this, my kid will be fighting alone out there, but we can't sign yet. We've got to hold onto what power we have so we can bargain for better."

"Tony's right," Steve said, relieved they were united on this. "They want us to sign so we can be the protectors the world needs. If we all refuse, show a united front, they'll be more likely to deal with us."

Natasha's lips pressed into a thin line. "This is a big risk."

Tony nodded, eyes dark with sadness. "It is, but we have time. We’ve got two years until a threat comes."

Bucky whistled. "Two years. Do you think we're going to be here that long?"

"I hope not,” Tony said fervently. “The idea of even a month without seeing my little girl or my wife and son as they should be is hell, but we've got to assume we're here for more than just avoiding the Accords fallout and stopping Bucky from being framed. Peter needs something from us."

Steve cleared his throat and raised a hand. "Actually, I've got a theory about that."

Tony frowned at him, then dropped down onto the couch, crossed an ankle over his knee, and said, "Go ahead, Cap."

Natasha sat on the arm of the chair beside Tony, Bucky took an armchair, but Steve stayed standing, arms crossed over his chest as he began to expound on the theory he'd been mulling over for hours.

"Peter sent us here with the Time Stone, that much we're sure of, and it hurt him to do it."

Tony winced. "Yeah, it did."

"So, it was worth him doing that to himself, or at least he believes it was," Steve went on. "And it was worth doing this to _us,_ which we all know he wouldn't do lightly. He's not put us in an easy position, but we come here knowing one thing that can guide us—Peter helps people. Everything big he's done with the Stones is to help people, to do the right thing. Look at what he did when he went away—he brought you back, Nat; he saved Vision and got Loki out of space; he went back to our darkest times to help us. He does _good_ with the Stones, so that's what we've got to do now. He wouldn't have sent us back otherwise."

"Then why did he send us back to _after_ Lagos?" Natasha asked. "We could have saved a lot more people, avoided a lot of trouble, if we'd been here a few hours earlier."

Steve bit his lip. "I don't know, but I think what he's sent us back for is bigger than Lagos, the Accords, and The Avengers." He stopped, took a breath, and said, "I think we're here to stop Thanos."

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. "You think so?"

Steve nodded. He'd been thinking about it all night, and this was the conclusion he'd drawn. "It makes sense, and it's something Peter couldn't do himself. No one would take him seriously if he came and told us what happens—not that they'll believe us either. He chose us because we're in a position to change things." He looked to Tony. "How much do you know of what we tried to do when Thanos attacked Wakanda?"

"Not much," Tony admitted.

Natasha spoke up. "Shuri was trying to get the Mind Stone out of Vision so Wanda could destroy it. She couldn't do it in time, so Wanda destroyed it while it was still in him. Vision died, but Thanos undid it."

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. "So, we can do it again. We'll have to get in touch with T'Challa, have Shuri help us—"

"With T'Chaka," Steve corrected. "He's alive still. And he's not going to be happy to help us. His people died in Lagos—he's going to be one of the people pushing hardest for the Accords."

Tony cursed. "I didn't think of that. We've got to find a way, though. I don't think I could get the Stone out of Vis, not without risking destroying him." He massaged his temples. "We've got time, though. Thanos won't be here for two years. We can do this." 

"We can," Steve agreed. "We can get the Mind Stone out of Vision and destroyed by Wanda; we can get Time away from Strange. Thanos couldn't get Mind back without Time. Without those Stones, he can't snap. We can save the universe five years of pain; we can save the lives of all those that died in the snap through accidents—the people in cars, planes, the trains that crashed. We can save everyone from this. I am _sure_ this is what Peter wants from us."

He was sure of it, having spent the night analyzing everything he knew about Peter and the essence of the person he was, and this was the conclusion he'd come to. It was a huge thing for them to do, but they would do it. The Avengers were created to protect people, and this was the biggest group of people they'd ever tried to protect. It was the universe.

Tony blew out a huge breath. "Wow."

"And we kill Thanos," Natasha said, nodding. "Even without the Stones, he's a threat. We can stop him."

"Hold up," Bucky said. "Can we do this? You guys told me that when you were messing with time travel, you couldn't change things without creating new timelines. What if we're just doing that? Sure, it'd still be a good thing to do, but what if we go back to a time when it all happened anyway?"

Tony stared down at his hands for a moment, brow furrowed, and then he said, "What if we do? Does it matter?"

He rubbed a hand over his face and got to his feet, paced up and down for a moment, and then stopped and turned to them.

"You know, I met my father when were in 1970. He was nothing like I imagined; he wasn't the man I grew up with. He was talking about his baby being due, me, and he was happy. Trust me, he was never happy when I was around. I took a moment with him and saw something I didn't think I'd ever see: a man that loved his son."

"Tony…" Steve said quietly, then trailed off, unsure what to say in the face of Tony's pain.

Tony shook his head and held up a hand. "I gave him a piece of advice that I got from him growing up, a reminder— _No amount of money ever bought a second of time._ I saw that reach him. He didn't go into _my_ childhood remembering that; nothing changed for me the way it did when Pete came to Siberia. My father was still an asshole to me growing up. But I like to think I created a better timeline for a different version of me. I think he'd have been a better father because we met."

Steve shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. He never knew what to say when Tony talked about his father and the difficult childhood he had because of him. Howard had been Steve's friend, a good man, and Steve knew it was partially his fault that had changed. When he took down the Valkyrie, he gave Howard a burning obsession, which had impacted Tony's childhood.

"So, we should do it anyway?" Natasha asked. "To save a different universe from a fate that's always going to be ours?"

Steve considered, then nodded. "I think we have to. Isn't that what the Avengers do?"

Natasha looked distant, thoughtful, but Bucky planted his hands on his knees and said, "I'm in. I think you're right, Steve: this is why Peter sent us here. If it's what he wants, I'll do whatever it takes to make it happen."

There was a deeper message in what he said, and Steve heard it. Bucky would do whatever Peter needed, do anything without question, because his dedication to Peter had no limits. He would die for him in a heartbeat if that was what Peter needed. 

Steve understood that absolute dedication as he would do the same for Bucky.

"So we're all in?" he asked, looking from face to face. "We're making a better universe for someone else?"

Natasha nodded. “I’m in.”

"We all are," Tony agreed. "It's what Peter wants from us. We need to—"

He cut off and jumped back as a swirling portal of yellow light appeared across the room. Steve's breath caught, and then he recognized what he was seeing. This was Doctor Strange's preferred mode of transportation.

However, it wasn't Doctor Strange that appeared. Instead, it was a bald woman in flowing robes that stepped out of the portal, raked her eyes over them all, and said, "What did you do?"

"Excuse me!" Tony said. "You're the one that just showed up in my living room. Who are you, and where's Strange?"

"Stephen Strange is currently traveling to Kathmandu in hopes of finding me at Kamar-Taj. I don't have long before I'll need to leave to speak to him. But I need to know what you did before I go." 

She walked towards Tony, who took a step back and held up his hands. "Easy, lady. I don't know you."

"I am Doctor Strange before he became who he was always supposed to be. I am called The Ancient One. I am the Sorcerer Supreme."

"It's okay, Tony,” Steve said. “Bruce told me about her. She's the one he got the Time Stone from. Peter took it back to her with Strange."

"Yes," she said. "Peter Parker. I met him, and I saw…" She frowned and said, as if to herself, "Why would he do this?"

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. "Honestly, lady, I'm not sure what you think he's done, and since you just swirled your way in here, maybe you should answer the questions first. What do you think he's done?"

She shook her head, annoyance etched into her features. "You, Tony Stark, are not the person that belongs in this time. None of you are." Her eyes moved from face to face, and then she held up the pendant on her chest, opened it, and they saw the green Time Stone glowing. "This is reacting to you."

Steve glanced at Tony, who looked wary, and decided to venture honesty. "We're not from this time, no. Peter sent us back. We were in 2023 together, with Peter, and then he slammed us with green light, and we found ourselves here in the bodies that belong in 2016."

She nodded, eyes narrowed. "Yes, it is your consciousnesses which have been switched, your souls. The power this took is…"

"It's big," Tony said darkly. "We know. We saw what it did to him."

"Is he okay?" she asked with what seemed to be genuine concern.

"We're not sure," Steve said. "He was pretty badly hurt already when he did it. He'd been hurt by…" He stopped and considered a moment, then said, "Ego attacked him."

He expected a look of shock or awe at the mention of Ego, but she merely nodded and murmured, "Ego… Nemesis… Of course… I didn't see…"

Tony lowered his arms to his sides and took a step forward. "You didn't see that, but you saw something, didn't you? What was it?"

She shook her head. "I saw many things, none of which matter right now."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "No. It matters. This is about you and Strange, isn't it? He saw what you saw. After he'd done the Time Warp with Peter, seen you, he was different. He's hiding something from us, and so are you."

He took another step forward, leaning menacingly towards her, and Steve jumped between them. "Easy, Tony," he said, planting a hand on Tony’s chest.

Tony gave his head a sharp shake. "She knows something big, Steve, and I want to know what it is. Strange didn't tell us, and I let myself be distracted from finding out what it was. But Peter did this to us, sent us here, and we need to know everything."

"I can tell you one thing," The Ancient One said. "Or rather I can show you. Give me your hand."

Tony glared at her and didn't move. Steve offered his hand instead, and she moved the pendant towards it. Steve felt a flicker of warmth over his skin, and he saw that green light was dancing from the center of his chest, down his sleeve to the tips of his fingers, then drifting into the Stone.

"What does that mean?" Bucky asked, moving to Steve's side and reaching his own hand towards the Stone, the same light show playing out on him. 

"It means he did not _just_ send you here with the Stone," she said. "He connected you to it through himself." Her lips quirked with an amused smile. "Congratulations, you are now all bearers of an Infinity Stone, too."

They all took a step back, Tony included, and Bucky placed his hand on his chest. "We're like Peter."

"In a way. You do not have all the Stones and their power, and you do not have control of Time the way he does. You have his freedom, though."

"Freedom to do what?" Tony asked.

Her lips quirked with a smile. "You can change the world. This world. You are not constrained by the rules of time travel that bound you before. You can change your past, therefore changing the future."

Tony made a strange sound, half laugh, half sob, and he staggered back to the couch to sit down.

"Tony?" Bucky said warily.

Tony wiped at his eyes, which Steve noticed were wet. "All of it. We can change all of it. Thanos, the snap, all that death." He raked his hands over his face, smearing his tears. "I don't have to lose Peter at all." He drew in a shaky breath. "He won't die in my arms again."

Steve felt a rush of excitement ripple through him, too. He wouldn't lose Bucky or Sam; the ones that remained wouldn't spend those five dark years dealing with the aftermath.

The Ancient One looked from face to face and said, "You can do all of that and more, but you need to be aware of something. It is a dangerous power you have now. Peter Parker has entrusted you with something potent and sentient, and you need to remember that with every single action you take."

"We will," Tony said, then, confusing Steve, he turned to him and said, smile wide, "You need to go now, Cap."

"Go where?" Steve asked, a frown marring his brow.

"Peggy," Tony said with a beaming smile. "You've got two weeks left to see her. Go now, say goodbye, and then come back so we can start to unpick this mess. Me and Nat will take care of stuff here. We'll set Bucky up with somewhere to hide. My place should work as no one but Pepper ever came here, and she's sure as hell not coming by right now." His lips turned down at the corners and then he went on, seeming to be speaking to himself, "I'll fix it."

"What do we do about the others?" Natasha asked. "Should we tell them about us and what's happening?"

"Not yet," Tony said. "We need to work out a real game plan first."

Bucky snorted. "You can have all the game plans you want; it doesn't mean they're going to believe you."

Steve shrugged, only paying half-attention to what was happening—the lure of seeing Peggy blooming in his chest. "We'll work it out. I've got to go. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"We've got time," Tony said. "Ross won't show up here with the Accords until the nineteenth for the rest of you, though I'll have to deal with him sooner."

"And I should go, too," The Ancient One said, swirling her hands. "Stephen Strange is waiting."

She stepped through the portal which she’d created and disappeared. Steve blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. There was so much to do, things to decide, but he just wanted to see Peggy now. He could give himself one day with her, say his goodbyes, and then they could work out how to save the world. 

He wanted to say goodbye to his best girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… They've got a plan. It's a huge one that could go in either direction. What do you think? A few of you have mentioned the limits of time travel in the MCU, so I'm glad I was able to clear that question up early. They can change things to change the future. That gives them (and me) so much freedom in this story.
> 
> Until next time…
> 
> Jadey xxx


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! Welcome to the weekend.   
> I hope your weeks were good. Mine was an up and down, but yesterday was awesome. I knocked out 3 chapters of Story V and I’m in a place in the plot which I’m really excited about. Hopefully, the flow will continue that well so I can keep up the double updates.   
> Thank you all for getting in touch after the last chapter. I love hearing from you all, and I appreciate each and every one of you on this journey with me.

Tony was grateful to Peter for giving him this chance to change things, to save him from those years without him there, and save the world from that trauma. He was also proud that Peter trusted him to do it. However, he missed his wife and daughter.

He'd not put Morgan to bed the night before, and he'd not been able to put his arms around Pepper as he fell asleep. In this time, Pepper was living in the city and had been since the last volatile argument about Tony's reckless ways. He missed her so much.

It was a little easier to be away from Morgan, in a way, as she wasn't out there yet. Pepper was, though. She was in the same building right now, meeting Maria Hill to discuss some facet of the business. She was so close to him, but also lightyears away.

He heard footsteps behind him, and he turned to see Bucky coming into the room. His hair was damp from the shower, and he was wearing some of the clothes Steve had given him. He was holding his prosthetic arm strangely, almost as if he was trying to distance himself from it. Tony had never noticed him doing that before.

“You okay?” he asked.

Bucky nodded and pushed back his damp hair. “Yeah. Fine.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Then what's with your arm? Need me to take a look at it; you got a glitch?"

Bucky looked down, and his eyes widened with what looked like surprise to see it held away from his side. "Huh."

“What is it?”

Bucky seemed to make a concerted effort to relax it and said, “This is the arm Hydra gave me. It’s this hand that ended lives.”

Tony flinched as he realized that was the hand that had murdered his parents. He leaned back, away from it automatically, and fought the urge to suit up and blast it to pieces.

Bucky nodded, a wry smile curling his lips. "Exactly. I'd take it off and trash it, but if a threat comes, if Peter needs us, I'm going to need two working hands."

“Yeah, you do. I don’t see anything coming, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” He gave his head a small shake. “We’ll get it off you, though. Obviously, I don’t have vibranium, but I can make it out of the same alloy as my suit. Trust me, that’s strong.” He got to his feet and approached, forcing himself to touch the arm, pulling it towards him and examining the joints. “I can improve on it even. This tech is outdated. I’m not going to be as good as Shuri, but I can definitely upgrade it. "

“Tony, are you home?” Pepper's voice called from him down the hall, and he froze with his hand on Bucky's wrist.

"Go!" Tony said under his breath, then raised his voice and said, "One moment. I'm just getting dressed."

Bucky slipped away towards the door, but not fast enough. Pepper appeared in the doorway, saying, "What do you mean you're…" She stopped, and her eyes flickered between Tony, eyes wide with his shock at being busted already, and Bucky, who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Friday, Home Invasion Protocol,” she said in a carefully measured voice.

“Initiating Home Invasion Protocol,” Friday said. “Deploying the Iron Fleet.”

“What! No! Friday, cancel the fleet!” Tony said quickly, waving a hand. “Damn, Pep. It’s not what you think. Bucky’s not here to hurt anyone.”

Her eyes twitched at the name, but she was a master at keeping her cool, and she said. “Tony, I would like to talk to you alone, please.”

“Can you excuse us, Bucky,” Tony said.

“Sure thing. It was nice to see you, Pepper.”

Pepper’s eyes followed Bucky as he slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

When he was gone, Tony took a step forward. He ached to be closer to her, to wrap her in his arms and bury his face in her hair, but he couldn’t. He had to keep his distance—remind himself that they were not together now, that she would probably slap him if he tried.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Why are you harboring a dangerous wanted felon in your home?”

“It’s a long story, but he’s not a threat,” Tony said.

Pepper stared at him a moment, took a deep breath, and then launched into impassioned speech the kind he’d not heard since that awful day when she’d announced her pregnancy and threatened to leave him at the same time—the day she’d saved him from himself.

“Tony! What the hell are you doing? Barnes is a wanted man, and not just by the US. Almost all UN countries are looking for the Winter Soldier. Why is he here? Are you having some kind of breakdown? Is that what this is? Are you on a self-destruct mission again? I know you’re still dealing with what happened in Sokovia, and I’m not saying you should forget it, but you can’t let it destroy your life. Or is it us? Because I know you’re struggling, I am, too, and I’m sorry, but—”

Tony held up a hand, and she stopped, breathing hard through her nose and biting her lip.

Tony took a breath of his own and weighed up his options. He could probably come up with some excuse that would work, but he didn’t want to. He and Pepper didn’t lie to each other. In fact, they relied on each other for the brutal truth when they had to. That had been something they agreed before Morgan was born.

In the early days, when Tony was focused on being the best man and father-to-be that he could, letting go of his overpowering grief, he and Pepper had many conversations on how they were going to build their new life together in the aftermath of the Snap. Pepper had insisted on honesty, and Tony had agreed, even though it had been hard. She’d wanted to know what he was thinking and feeling, and not just the good stuff—he'd agreed to share the darker places in his mind, too. 

Tony wiped a hand over his face and said, “Time travel, Pepper. I’m a time traveler.”

She jerked back a few steps, eyes wide and lips parted, and then a glower crossed her face. “What the hell, Tony? How do you think this is going to help anything?”

He snorted. “That’s the whole point—I’m here to help. That’s why he sent us here.”

Pepper glared at him wordlessly.

“2023, Pep. I have been sent back here—well, to yesterday—from 2023. I wasn’t told what was happening, why he was doing it, because the person that did it couldn’t talk—not because he didn’t care." Even though it was the truth that he didn’t know what was happening, he felt defensive of Peter, not wanting to lay blame for the path he’d set them on without instruction. It had not been Peter’s fault.

“You think you’re fifty-three? Tony, you look exactly the same as you did when I saw you three days ago.”

“Yes, but it’s my body from now with my soul, my consciousness here. It’s me from then in my body from now. We all are. It’s me, Steve, Natasha, and Bucky. We were all sent back."

“Back by who?”

“By someone I love as much as I love you,” he said, his voice heavy with feeling. “By someone that’s trusting me to do something huge for the sake of the whole world.”

Pepper stared at him a moment, seeming to be weighing something in her mind, and then she said, “Rhodey?”

“No, he didn’t come back, which is weird since he was with us when it hit. But, no, he’s not back.”

"No, I mean, was it Rhodey that did it?"

Tony stared blankly for a moment, and then he caught up to what she was saying. As far as Pepper knew, the only people he loved were her, Rhodey, and Happy. His family and trusted circle of people was tiny.

“No. It was someone else.”

She nodded but looked dubious. “That’s one less insane thing for you to say, I guess. This isn’t something Rhodey could do.”

“You’ve not met him yet, the one that will do it, but you will soon.”

He said it automatically, even though he’d not yet thought of what he was going to do about Peter. With no battle about the Accords and Bucky to tear the Avengers apart, he would not need to recruit Peter. He knew himself well enough to know that he wasn’t going to be able to stay away from him, though. He was here as long as it took to stop Thanos, and he was not spending that time without his son. He was going to find a way to be with him no matter what else happened.

Pepper pressed her fingers to her temples. “This is crazy, Tony, you’re crazy, and now you’ve got me in a position in which I could end up in jail. I’ve seen Barnes, I know where he is; I should call the police now.”

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I need you to not do that. I promise you Bucky is no threat. I get that you can't trust him, as you don't know him, but you do know me. I'd never put you in danger again."

Not like he had in the past.

“I can’t believe this, Tony. I’m sorry, because I can see you really believe it, but it’s too crazy. I think you’ve been under a lot of strain lately with Ultron and Sokovia, then with what happened to us, and you need to get some rest.”

Tony huffed an automatic laugh. "You're not wrong about the strain, but it was the strain in 2023 that I was under. I am not crazy. I can…"

He grappled for a way to prove it to her. He could tell her about the Accords, but that was something he could have found out on his own; it wasn’t enough for proof.

“New York!” he said, snapping his fingers and checking his watch. “In about five hours, give or take since I wasn't paying much attention, there will be an earthquake in the city. It's a…" He rubbed his temples and wracked his memories for the number. "A 4.6, I think. It's not really an earthquake; it's some trouble of the Avengers kind that is being taken care of by some lower-level crew. But it'll hit, and the tower will need structural assessment—it'll be fine, by the way."

Pepper raised an eyebrow. “An earthquake?”

“Not really, but that’s what it’ll feel like. Last time you were in your office. One of your godawful desk toys will break. It’s coming, though, Peperp, I swear it. Wait, see it happen, then come back and talk to me when you believe me.”

Pepper stared at him a moment, then nodded and said, "Okay. I’ll give you until the end of the day. If there’s no earthquake, I want you to speak to someone, a professional, and take some time off to rest.”

“Fine, but I won’t need to. It’ll happen.”

She smoothed her skirt and said, “I’ve got to go. I only came to tell you that we got a call from DC. The new Secretary of State wants a meeting with you.”

Tony sucked in a breath, his heart racing with sudden fury as hatred washed through him. “Ross wants to speak to me?”

He should have known. Ross would be there the next day to have him sign the Accords. He'd have them couriered to Tony's lawyers first, who would look them over, warn Tony that they could be weaponized, but he'd sign them anyway because he was still traumatized by his meeting with Charlie Spencer’s mother.

“Tony?” Pepper approached him and placed a hand on his face, which made him sure his internal turmoil was showing on his face. “Are you okay?”

“I want to kill him,” he said in a quiet but dangerous tone. 

“You want to kill who?”

“Ross,” he growled. “I am going to kill him for what he did.”

He dismissed Peter's need to protect life, he ignored what Peter would want, and focused on what he was going to do. Ross was going to die so that he could never touch Peter, never take him to The Raft, never brainwash him, and leave Peter locked away inside himself for the protection of others.

“You can’t kill him, Tony!” Pepper said, eyebrows high and hands now gripping his shoulders. “Why would you even want to?”

“Because he tortured my son,” Tony snarled.

Pepper's hands dropped to her sides, and she mouthed wordlessly. "You have a…" She shook her head, cleared her throat, and said in a neutral voice, "You need to call Ross and arrange the meeting. I’m going back into the city. I’ll make arrangements for my replacement within the next few weeks. I’m stepping down.”

“Wait! What? Pepper, no! He’s not my son by blood, I’m not his biological father, but I’m his dad. Honestly, I’ve not been hiding him from you all this time, I swear.”

She looked at him a moment, eyes narrowed, and then she shook her head and strode out.

"Pepper!" he shouted after her and started to follow, but a hand gripped his shoulder too tight to be shrugged off, and he was spun around.

Bucky stared into his eyes, his own blazing with emotion, and said, “Tony, you are _not_ killing Ross.”

“Why not? I can change time now. I can fix things.”

“Because Peter wouldn’t want you to. He got his revenge his way. He wouldn’t want you to end a life for him. He wouldn’t want you to end a human life at all.”

Tony shook his head jerkily. “No, Bucky, this is my chance.”

“To let your son down?” Bucky asked. “To become a murderer? I have been down that road, I’ve killed people, and you can never go back to the man you were once it's done. Can you go back when this is over and look into the eyes of your children and know that you've changed, that you betrayed them like that?"

Tony drew a shaky breath. He felt Bucky’s words sinking in, digging into his head and breaking down his determination.

“If I don’t kill him, I’m going to have to deal with him,” he growled. “I’ll have to talk to him.”

“You will,” Bucky agreed. “Think, Tony, you can’t change anything from inside a jail cell, and that’s where you’ll end up if you do this.”

Tony bowed his head. “This is going to be hell, Bucky.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest. “It is, but it’s not going to be the same hell Peter went through on The Raft, so you can do it. You’re not alone. You’ve got me, Steve, and Natasha on your side. We’re all dealing with this together.” His eyes softened. “And you’ve got a good reason to do it.”

“Yeah? What’s that? What is supposed to make it possible for me to sit in the same room as that asshole and not stab him in the head?”

Bucky grinned. “The fact you’re doing it for Peter. We’ve let him down in the past, all of us when he was catatonic; we didn’t see who he needed, so he was gone longer than he needed to be. This time it's different. We know exactly what he wants and needs. So, we deliver.”

Tony glared at him. “That’s easy to say when you can’t go near him without being locked in jail.”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, I guess it is, but this is what Peter needs. Really, Tony, can you refuse him now after what you’ve seen?”

Tony deflated, the air rushing out of him as he realized he couldn’t. He needed to look into the eyes of that monster and not let him see just how much he hated him, how much he wanted him to burn, how desperately he wanted to kill him.

Because Peter wouldn’t want him to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Ross is on his way, Pepper thinks Tony is crazy, and Bucky won’t let Tony kill Ross. I know some of you will probably agree with Tony, part of me does, too, but that’s not what Peter would ever want.   
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Yes, it’s Monday, and yes I’m updating, but writing is going soooo well I can afford to be generous – and also, I love updating. In the last 3 days, I have written eight chapters!!! The words have been flowing and I’ve been working on the story for nine hours a day. I’m at a point I’m loving in the plot, and I am sure you’re going to love it when we get there. Right now, the story stands at 135k, and I’ve still not got to the part which the whole story is built around as there’s so many another things to happen and steps along the path. I think it’s going to end at around 200k.   
> Anyway, I’m done rambling. Enjoy some Steve/Peggy time :-)

Steve pushed open the doors of the Sunset View Retirement Home and went to the front desk to sign in. The receptionist was on the phone, but she quickly excused herself and fixed her eyes on Steve. He was used to this, some people were awed when they saw Captain America show up, but her words dismissed that idea.

“Captain Rogers, thank goodness you came! What incredible timing you have. I can't believe it… Ms. Carter is having a good day."

Steve was a little surprised by her enthusiasm. He'd seen Peggy have good days before; they involved someone giving her a bedside manicure or a friend coming to read to her. None of them elicited this kind of reaction.

“She is?” he asked politely.

“Yes,” the woman said eagerly. “She’s lucid!”

Steve took an automatic step back, and his mouth dropped open. Peggy was _lucid._ That had happened once, and it was for just a flash of time, long enough for her to recognize him and realize he was back. It had been like a glimpse of the sun shining behind a cloud before it was hidden again. But this sounded like it was something more substantial than just a glimpse of the real Peggy.

“What exactly does that mean?” he asked cautiously, not wanting to get too excited and then be disappointed.

"She's her old self. She woke up this morning, totally lucid. She was confused at first as she didn't recognize where she was, but she calmed down." She gave a small smile. "She's in a wonderful mood, too."

“Can I see her?” Steve asked, voice taut with excitement.

“Of course. You know the way to her room?”

I do,” Steve said, raising a hand in thanks and rushing through the door.

He strode quickly along the hall and then stopped outside Peggy’s room. He took a breath, braced himself, then knocked and entered at the softly spoken invitation.

He walked into the room and stopped a few feet inside. Peggy was out of bed, sitting in a chair beside the window. She was facing away from him, looking out onto the garden.

“Peggy,” he whispered.

She turned slowly to face him, her eyes wondering and lips parted. “Steve!”

Steve walked towards her on shaking legs then dropped down to kneel in front of her. He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to the aged skin. She made a soft sighing sound, and then her free hand cupped his cheek and guided him to look at her. 

“They told me you were back, but I feel like I already knew that,” she said softly, eyes wet.

“I came to see you before,” he said. “You were a little…” He trailed off, not sure if anyone had told her what her diagnosis was, how this day was a gift to her and them.

She sighed. “I wasn’t really here, was I? They didn’t want to tell me, but I insisted.”

Steve’s lips quirked with a smile. “You handed out the orders?”

"I did." She smiled in return, and then it faded to a scowl. "Alzheimer’s. I cannot imagine anything crueler than that.” She pressed a hand to her right temple. “I lost it all, didn’t I?”

Steve swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, Peggy.”

She patted his cheek, then lowered her hands to her lap. "Sit down, Steve. You can't be comfortable kneeling like that. And I'd like to talk to you. I don't know how long I'll have before the demon that is that disease comes for me again, and there's so much I want to know about your life."

Steve stood then sat on the chair opposite her. It felt too far, though; he needed to be closer. He picked up the chair and dragged it to her side, angled so he could see her face, and sat down.

“You owe me a dance,” she said with a coquettish smile.

Steve chuckled. “I do.”

“I cannot dance anymore,” she said heavily. “They didn’t even want me to get out of the bed. But if all I have is now before I lose myself again, this minute, hour, or day, I refuse to waste it in bed."

“More orders?”

She laughed again. “Indeed.” She reached out and touched his hand. He cupped hers in both of his, feeling the warm, crepey skin under his own smooth touch.

"Tell me about your life, Steve," she said. "I know they found you in the ice and that you’re part of a group of superheroes now, but tell me everything."

“I work with Howard’s son,” he said.

“Tony? I’ve not seen him since Howard and Maria died.” A small frown appeared between her brows. “That boy had a difficult time. Howard was not… He changed.”

“So I’ve heard, but Tony is amazing,” Steve said. “Even more brilliant than Howard. The things he’s done…” He whistled.

"He changed, too, then?" she asked. "After Howard and Maria died, he became a reckless young man. He didn't keep in contact with me. I should have pushed for more, but I was weak. It hurt me to see him like that.”

“He’s different now,” Steve said. “He’s…” He was about to tell her that Tony had a family, children, and then he realized he didn’t have them yet. “Can I tell you something, Peggy? You can’t tell another soul, though.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Classified information?”

“Beyond classified.”

“I can keep state secrets, Steve, and I probably won’t remember this in the morning. Say what you want to say.”

“I’m not really from this time. I don’t mean the whole ice thing. I mean that until a few days ago, I was in 2023.”

Her eyes widened, and her lips parted, but she didn't speak, merely nodded for him to go on.

“Something happened in the future, something we’re going to stop, and there’s this kid that gained incredible power.” He smiled fondly at the thought of Peter. “He sent us here. He’s Tony’s son, and he is the most amazing father; he’s got a five-year-old daughter, too. Really, Peggy, he’s not what he was after Howard died. Even in the time I've known him, he's changed massively. He's a truly good person now. He’s a hero.”

“So are you,” she said.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I am. It’s all relative, though, when you’re comparing yourself to Queens.”

“Queens?”

Steve felt warmth in his chest as he thought of the kid he loved. “That’s just what I call him; he’s called Peter really, Peter Parker. He’s only sixteen, but he’s the one that saved us all. He was incredible. He saved the world— no, he saved the _universe_.”

Peggy stared at him a moment, her eyes assessing. “You love him.”

“I really do, god, so much, and I’m not the only one. Bucky’s alive, Peggy. Hydra had him. For a long time, they misused him, turned him into an assassin, but he’s back to himself now. Damn, he loves Queens. I’ve never seen him like that with anyone.”

Her eyes glowed with happiness. “You have him back.”

“I do. It took a long time, and it was a hard road, but now I have my best friend back. With Queens, Bucky, Tony, and the others, I've got a whole family.”

"I'm happy for you, Steve." Her lips turned down. "Losing you was hard, but seeing everything you lost was harder. You could have had the world.”

Steve stared at her. He felt a shift between them. His eyes moved around the room, and he saw a family portrait of Peggy with her husband, son, and daughter. At one point, after he heard Peter took Strange back to meet his friend, The Ancient One, Steve had considered asking Peter to do it for him, too, to take him back to Peggy.

The only thing that had stopped him was the fact he didn't want to leave Bucky and Peter behind until he was totally sure they would be okay. He saw now, though, that if he had done that, it would have been cruel.

Peggy had a good life without him. She grieved him, he was sure, and she probably thought of him sometimes and what they could have had together, but her life had moved on. She fell in love again, married, and created a family.

Though he wanted it for himself, there was no place for Steve in the past with her. All he would do by going back is take something away from her and replace it with a shade of what could have been. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked, her hand touching his face.

“I’m thinking about you,” he said. “You had a good life.”

"I had a wonderful life. I enjoyed what I did; I created things I can be proud of, children that gave me joy. I hate that it ended this way, but I do not regret what I had before."

His thoughts confirmed, the decision to never ask made, he said, "Tell me everything you did."

She smiled impishly. "No, Steve, I already know my story. I want to know yours. I don't know how long I have before the fog descends again, and I lose what I have now. Tell me about Bucky and this boy you love. Tell me what life is like in 2023. I want to know the future."

Steve smiled and relaxed in his seat. “Okay, Peggy, make yourself comfortable as it’s a long story.”

“And an interesting one,” she said, adjusting herself in her seat. “Please, Steve, tell me it all…”

xXx

Bucky knew he should not be here. If Tony knew, he’d lose his mind; if Steve found out, he’d list all the risks and make that betrayed face Bucky hated; if Natasha knew, she’d call him a reckless idiot. He couldn’t help it, though. Tony had moved him out of the compound and into the tower in the city while Ross was sniffing around, so Bucky was just too close to Queens to resist.

He had no intention of speaking to Peter, he wouldn’t even let himself be seen, but he wanted to catch a glimpse of him going about his day. It would be easier to do it during the day when Peter was going in and out of the school, but Bucky would be noticed if he was hanging around kids.

With no other option available, Bucky found an alley near Peter’s apartment building and waited in the shadows to see him swing past.

He'd done what he could to disguise himself. He had a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, again; he was wearing gloves to hide his vibranium hand; his scarf was pulled high over his chin to offset the chill. This was as close to undercover as he could get, and he thought it was enough. Even if it wasn't—he could run faster than anyone chasing him.

Besides, this was what he had to do to see Peter, so he was going to damn well do it.

The sounds of the city washed over him, people going about their lives, but he was waiting for a different sound. It was one he’d only heard a few times before, when Peter was showing off for his sister. He wanted the thwip sound of webs shooting and landing on buildings.

He waited patiently at first and then impatiently, eventually deciding that he was disguised enough that he didn't need to hide anymore and headed out onto the street.

He felt better walking, and his eyes roved the buildings above for a sign of a hero in red and blue swinging above him.

Unlike the usual New York bustle with which people marched like they were on rails, people skirted around him as he walked, perhaps seeing something dangerous in the way he was moving or his covered features.

He was content, though anticipating a glimpse of Peter, until his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he ducked into the doorway of a closed store and took it out. He checked the caller ID and saw it was Steve. He considered sending it to voicemail, but if Steve started worrying, he'd call Tony, and then Bucky's excursion would become known.

He connected the call and brought it to his ear. “Hey, Steve.”

“Hey, Buck. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, same as usual. How are you doing?”

“I’m… I’m better than good. It’s been a crazy day.”

“You saw Peggy?”

“Yeah, I spent the day with her. Buck, she was lucid. They say it happens sometimes with dementia, though it doesn’t usually last long. But I had a whole day with her. She _knew_ me. She wanted the whole story, how I'm here and what happened to me. It was the most amazing thing. I got to tell her all about you and Queens and some of what happened."

Bucky smiled. “That’s great, Steve. I’m really happy for you.”

“Me too. I have no idea if the lucidity will stick for tomorrow, but I want to stay as long as it does. This is a gift, Buck, and I missed out on it before.”

“Stay as long as you need. “We can work out the rest between us.”

“I’ll be there soon. I just want as much time with her while she’s really _here_ as I can. What have you been doing?”

“Oh, you know, just hanging around. Nothing special. In fact I—”

He cut himself off as he heard the familiar thwip sound, and a red and blue blur flew above him.

"I'll call you back," he said curtly, ended the call, and stuffed the phone back in his pocket.

He looked up and saw the red and blue blur had stopped. Peter was high up, clinging to the side of a building and looking around. Bucky was struck by the suit he was wearing, though suit was perhaps too formal a word. It looked like he was wearing pajamas, and he had what looked like welding goggles in the mask. Sure, Bucky knew Tony didn't meet him for a couple more weeks last time around, and that was when he gave him the upgraded suit, but he never imagined Peter would be out like this. That thin cotton fabric would give him no protection at all.

Peter's eyes were scanning the street, and Bucky knew he should look away, that he was being too obvious, but then Peter's gaze locked on him, and Bucky's breath caught. Without thought, he raised a hand in greeting.

Peter gave a soft laugh and raised a hand in return. Bucky felt something swell in his chest. That was Peter. He had no idea who Bucky was, didn’t care about him any more than he would any random person on the street, but he’d given Bucky that smallest connection.

It made Bucky feel a wave of something like joy, which felt strange. This was the least amount of contact he'd had with Peter since the battle, and yet it meant so much. He'd become spoiled with the ease of contact between him and Peter. He'd been able to hug him; he could clap him on the back, squeeze his shoulder, tousle his hair whenever he wanted. He'd been able to show how much he loved him. He couldn't do that now, but here he was, seeing him.

There was a distant cry, and Peter's head snapped towards it. Without a beat of hesitation, he began swinging towards it, flying in arcs over Bucky's head.

Unable to resist, Bucky ran towards the sound. He came to a corner and saw a woman with her hands over her face and a bloody lip and a man sprinting away with a purse clutched in his hand. He thought about following, but then Peter dropped onto the sidewalk and started after the man at a sprint.

Bucky wanted to go to the woman, but he couldn’t draw attention to himself. He crossed the street and took out his phone, pretending to be typing a message while really watching the street. He saw Peter sling a web at the mugger and bring him down.

Bucky moved closer to hear what he was saying, and he was stuck at once by how different Peter sounded, how young. He knew Peter was fourteen, but he’d not imagined how different that would make him.

"Mugging? Not cool. Get a job. Mister. You run fast, so maybe you could be a courier."

The man grumbled curses, and Peter webbed his mouth shut.

“Rude.”

He webbed his hands to the sidewalk, then walked back to the victim to deliver her purse. Bucky stood back, listening as Peter reassured her and asked a bystander if he could call the cops to collect the mugger as he needed to go. He was assured the police would be called, and Peter gave them a wave and began to swing away. Bucky followed his path and saw him come to a halt on the roof of a building a little down the block. He wanted to go to him, to talk, but he knew he had to be smarter than that.

He would be able to talk to Peter when it was time. He couldn’t rush that. He had to be patient.

It was going to be tough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… A little lighter stuff. I really enjoyed writing the scene with Steve and Peggy—and yes, Steve’s thoughts of going back and how selfish that would have been represented my views on canon. I think what Steve did in Endgame, going back to Peggy, was amazingly selfish. She was happy without him, had moved on, and went on to create a family. I find what Steve did as hard to swallow as the fact Steve and Bucky didn’t get an on-camera goodbye.   
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday! You’ve made it to the middle of the week. You can make it through the rest.   
> Thank you all for the feedback for the last chapter. It was great to see some new names in my inbox. I appreciate you all — old names and new — sharing your thoughts on the story.

Tony had been waiting for the call all evening, ever since the earthquake hit, and when it came, it was short. Pepper merely told him to book a table and let her know the details. He called and booked them a table at Dominque's, then had Friday text her the time.

He showered and changed into a nice suit, needing to keep up appearances despite the situation, and drove himself across the city. The place he’d booked was an out of the way restaurant, which was a favorite of his and Pepper's as it had secluded tables where they could talk without being overheard.

The fact Pepper wanted somewhere public for this conversation wasn't lost on Tony, and he wondered at her motivation behind it. Was she expecting him to act out when they met? Sure, there was a time he would have done that, pulled a Stark move and started grandstanding, but that time had come and gone. Perhaps that was the problem, though, Pepper saw him as the man he was in 2016, with none of the personal growth the following seven years and fatherhood had given him.

He got to the restaurant and was greeted by Madison, the hostess Pepper always stopped to talk to when they were here. She seemed surprised and wary to see him, which made him sure she knew of his and Pepper's breakup through the tabloids.

Tony wondered if she was expecting him to be bringing some other woman here for the evening. He never would have, not even the first time he lived through this. Pepper was his one and only, no one else had ever or would ever come close, and he had no need for random hookups to appease lust.

He was taken to his usual table, and he ordered a glass of water for him and a bottle of Pepper's favorite wine for when she arrived.

At precisely eight o'clock, Pepper appeared, led to their table by Madison who slipped away without a word. Pepper stood still for a moment, one hand clasping her purse and the other the back of the chair, looking at him. Tony smiled at her and poured a glass of wine. He held it out, and she took it from him, still standing. She drank it down quickly, then pulled back the chair, sat down, and poured herself another.

“This is crazy,” she said without a word of greeting or prelude. “Insane.”

Tony smiled slightly. “Try living it.”

She took a sip of her wine, then set the glass down and leaned forward. "You're really from…" she waved a hand, "…then?"

“2023.”

She winced. "Okay. Wow. This is so much to think about. I didn't want to believe it, not even after the earthquake, but I can think of no way you could have known about it. And—" She cut herself off and pressed her fingertips to her mouth.

“And?” he pressed.

She shook her head and redirected. “So, you’re here, what are you going to do?”

"There's a threat coming, Pep. I know you've heard me say that before, and you always thought I was getting paranoid." He huffed a laugh. "Maybe I was paranoid, but after what I’ve seen, do you blame me? The point is, I was right. There is a threat coming in 2018, a threat to the whole universe, and we've been sent back to stop it."

“You, Steve, Natasha, and the Winter Soldier?”

“Bucky,” Tony corrected without thought. “And yes.”

“Do I want to know what the threat is?”

“No.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t want to know, and I won’t tell you. You don’t need those nightmares. Suffice to say it’s big. But it’s not going to happen. We’re going to stop it.”

She took another sip of her wine. “And it was your _son_ that sent you all here?”

Tony felt a rush of something warm fill him at the thought of Peter. “It was. I can’t tell you what’s coming, but I can tell you some of it. You know stone in Vision, the Mind Stone? It’s one of six Infinity Stones. If they can be collected by a particular brand of bastard, unbelievable damage can be done. We’re going to stop him, though. Because of Peter and what he did with one of those Stones, what it cost him,” he flinched as he remembered Peter seizing and the machines blaring, “we’re going to save the world.”

She stared at him over the rim of her glass as she sipped the wine. There was a strange glint in her eyes that he didn't recognize. He was lost until she said, "You really love him, this Peter, don't you?"

"I do." Tony rubbed his chest. “There are very few people in the world that I can’t live without and have a truly full life—I speak from experience here—and he’s one of them. Do you want to know about him?”

She considered a moment and then said, “Sure.”

Tony tapped a button on his watch and said, “Friday, pull up a yearbook photo of Peter Parker, Midtown High School.”

There was the briefest pause as Friday found the picture, and then Peter’s face filled the hologram. He was smiling, his hair a mess and eyes crinkled as if he’d just heard a joke. The fact he was so young struck Tony for the first time. He’d become so used to his son as the sixteen-year-old young man, and that was in the times he wasn’t demonstrating maturity befitting the bearer of the Infinity Stones, that it was jarring to see him as a kid again.

“He’s cute,” Pepper said.

Tony chuckled. "He is. He's got this weird nervous energy charm thing right now, and he talks a mile a minute. A lot of the time, he's a good comparison to the energizer bunny on coke."

Pepper smiled. “And how did you meet him? Is he really not your biological son?”

“No,” Tony said, and there was sadness in his voice as he thought of that one missing connection between him and Peter. “He’s… Friday, pull up the kid in a onesie stopping a car.”

“The kid doing what?” Pepper asked, and Tony held up a hand.

The video came instantly this time, as Tony had already tagged the video of Spider-Man the first time he lived through these days the moment it was uploaded. The video came up, Peter in his ridiculous suit landing in front of the bus a split second before the car would have hit it. He caught it, and the car rocked back, tail lifting.

Pepper watched the video with wide eyes and parted lips.

“What is he?” she asked. “It is a super-soldier thing like Steve? No. It can’t be. But how? He’s so young.”

"He's fourteen," Tony said. "Yeah, too damn young to be doing it, I know. And it's not a super-soldier thing. The kid was bitten by a mutated spider. He calls himself Spider-Man. He can climb walls and hang from the ceiling—which he does to screw with me and to make—” He cut off and bit his tongue, angry at himself for the almost-slip of mentioning Morgan’s name. He went on, voice enthused again. “He’s created this chemical compound that he can swing from like webs. He’s fast, so strong, and…”

Pepper cut him off. “But he’s just a kid.”

"I know." Tony minimized the video and picked up his water to sip "He's still young in 2023, though I can't explain that without telling you too much, but he's amazing, Pep. Really, he's the most incredible kid I've ever known. And he's _good_. I don’t mean well-behaved or moral—though he’s the most moral person in existence—I mean as a person. And it’s not just me saying it. He’s… _worthy_.”

Pepper stared at him, seeming to be taking in the words and turning them over in her mind. Before she could say anything, Marcus, their usual waiter, came to their table. Tony and Pepper greeted him amiably, assured him they were well, and Pepper ordered salmon fillet and Tony shrimp linguine.

When he was gone, an awkward silence settled over them, and then Pepper said, “Your eyes are different, you know.”

“My eyes?”

“Yes. Even if the earthquake thing hadn’t proved it, I think I would have believed you eventually. I didn’t see it before, but your eyes hold the extra years you had to the man I know.”

“I guess that makes sense; I’ve not paid much attention to how I look,” Tony admitted. “But my body is definitely in better condition than the one I left behind. My knees don’t creak half as much.”

Pepper laughed softly. “You’re not that old.”

“No? Maybe not. But I lived hard, Pep.”

He'd always heard having children kept you young, and Morgan did in some ways, but he regretted waiting until later in life to have children. He was starting to feel like a middle-aged man back in 2023, and Morgan was full of energy. That was one of the great things about her and Peter being together. Peter could match Morgan for energy.

"What are you thinking?" Pepper asked, and when Tony looked enquiring, she went on, "The way you were smiling… I've never seen you look like that before."

"My life in 2023 is…” He ran a hand through his hair. “In some ways, it's the best time I've ever had, Pep. I'm so happy there. Right before I came back, there was a threat that appeared for us to deal with, and Peter was in a bad way, but still, my life there is overwhelmingly good in ways I can't even begin to explain."

Pepper sipped her wine then pushed her hair back from her face. “Are you and I together in the future?”

Tony answered without hesitation because he’d already decided this when he saw Pepper in his living room. “That’s down to you to decide. I’m not telling you what I left behind, who was or wasn’t there, because you get to choose that yourself.”

Pepper pressed her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. “Tony, you know I want to be with you, but I can’t live my life waiting for the call that you died out doing something as Iron Man. I’m scared every day.”

"I understand that," Tony said. "I can't explain how, but I lived on the flip side of that in the future."

He remembered seeing Pepper arrive on the battlefield in the Rescue Armor, the horror he'd felt when he realized his wife was going to be fighting alongside him. That fear had soon moved to pride and admiration as he saw how capable she was, though. He also remembered the horror he’d felt as he’d seen Peter holding the gauntlet and then putting it on.

“I can’t retire Iron Man yet, though,” he said regretfully. “There is a threat coming that needs me in the suit. I can tell you that if things stay the same this time around regarding threats, I won't have to go out as Iron Man against a real threat for a long time. Hell, when we do what we're planning to do, I'll be able to hang up the suit for years."

Pepper bowed her head and fumbled with the napkin for a long moment while Tony made a concerted effort to not stare at her. He understood the battle being waged inside her now—the knowledge that a day would come when she would live with that fear again, but he couldn’t lie to her.

“Okay,” she said eventually.

His heart beat a little faster. “Okay?”

“Yes. Okay. You and me, we’re okay. I’ll stop trying to force you to stop doing what you need to do as long as you _promise_ that, the moment the time comes, you’ll retire Iron Man.”

Tony nodded eagerly. “I can do that, no problem. Besides, I might not have a choice but to hang up the suit for a while anyway.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”

"Ross," Tony said, the venom of hatred in his voice. "He wants to see me to bring the new legislation the UN has come up with for the Avengers. We're going to be monitored. Last time, I signed it without hesitation, knowing we needed to be overseen, but I can't do that now. When I signed before, it set us on a path that tore the Avengers apart. I can't let that happen again." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Things are going to be hard for a while for all of us, but we're going to work it out. The Avengers have to stay united to get what's coming done."

“You’re going against the UN?” Pepper asked, her tone carefully even.

Tony huffed a laugh at the reminder of insane this sounded. "I am. For a while, at least. We've got to talk to the others, get them on board, but the plan is for us all to refuse until we can make amendments. Right now, they're slanted against us—life imprisonment without trial kind of slanted. We’re going to change that.”

Pepper smiled. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing you’ll have me to come home to with all that stress.”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re coming home?”

“I am. This is all crazy, and I still can’t really wrap my mind around it, but I’ve been miserable without you. Yes, I’m coming home.”

Tony was out of his seat in an instant; he was lifting her and pulling her against his chest in the next. His lips slammed against hers, and he poured all his happiness, his relief, and the peace that she gave his heart into the kiss.

He had Pepper back, which would give him the strength to face what came the next day in the form of a meeting with Thaddeus Ross without punching him.

He could do it with Pepper to go home to and Peter relying on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Pepper knows and believes. That was something I wanted to get settled early. It’s hard enough for Tony without having distance between him and Pepper, too.   
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to Saturday! Good job! ;-)  
> It’s been an intense week for me. I’ve got A LOT of writing. This story now stands at 155k, and I have just started the final action arc of the story, which we’ve been building towards for a long time. I’m a little intimidated by it after so much build-up, but I am determined to get it right and will edit until I have. I am about 5k away from my 100/100 goal now, so might relax for a while when I get there. Might not, though, as this story has me hooked to the laptop for 6-8 hours a day right now.  
> I had a couple comments on FFnet about chapter length being too short. I finish a chapter when it feels complete. I aim for around 3k, but I don’t stress if I don’t reach it. If you prefer, I can collage two chapters together for a longer length, but that means updates won’t come so often. I don’t particularly want to do that as I’m happy with them as they are, but the choice is yours. Let me know.  
> NOTE: I have raised the rating to mature and added a minor character death warning. It's not an Avenger, but they have an important role in the story. I am sorry to do it at this late stage, but I didn't see this death coming when I started posting. If you need to know who it is for reassurance, my email is on my profile and I'm happy to tell you as long as it doesn't end in comments as spoiler.

Tony set his coffee mug down on the kitchen table as he heard Rhodey call his name from along the hall.

“In here,” he called back.

Rhodey strode in, and for a moment, Tony just stared at him. He'd become so accustomed to Rhodey in his braces, the slightly stilted movements, that the sight of him moving smoothly under his own steam was shocking. It made a lump form in his throat, and he stood and walked towards him without making a conscious decision to.

“What?” Rhodey asked. “Have I got something on my face?” He rubbed his chin.

“It’s good to see you,” Tony said, his voice a little choked. Before he could stop himself, he was throwing his arms around Rhodey and hugging him.

“Uh… okay,” Rhodey said. “This isn’t weird at all.” He pulled back, and Tony had to force himself to unlock his hands and release him. Rhodey stared at him for a long moment. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Tony said. “I’m just happy to see you.”

“I saw you a week ago, Tone, and you didn’t act like this. You complained because I finished the coffee in the pot while I was waiting for you to get your ass out of the lab to see me.”

Tony waved a hand. “Yeah, but that was then. This is now, and now, I’m happy.”

He knew he wasn’t playing it cool enough, but it was hard when he was seeing his best friend as he had been before. Rhodey managed his disability like a champ, didn’t let it hold him back, but Tony wasn’t going to let him be put in the position to be strong like that again. There would be no Civil War, as the press had called it; Rhodey would not fall from the sky while Tony tried desperately to get to him but ultimately watched helplessly as he crashed into the ground.

“Sure you are,” Rhodey said doubtfully. “And that’s why you wanted me to come over— because you’re happy?”

Tony’s smile faded. “Afraid not. The Secretary of State is coming by soon with a proposal for me, and I want you there to help.”

“A proposal?”

Tony sighed and gestured him to a chair at the table. Rhodey sat down, and Tony fetched him a coffee then joined him.

“You know the Avengers aren’t popular right now.”

Rhodey nodded. “Yeah. Is there more trouble?”

“Yeah. A big swell of UN countries want us to be overseen. They've come up with something called The Sokovia Accords. It's a framework for us to work within, but it basically means we'd be under the control of the United Nations. A hundred and seventeen countries have signed up for it. We won't be a private organization anymore. They will set up a panel, and we'll only be able to act _if and when_ they decree.”

Rhodey’s brow furrowed, but he nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah, I can see that. It’d be better. We’d be accountable; there would be a chain of command for us to follow.”

Tony had known he’d react like that as he had last time. Rhodey believed in orders and a chain of command. He was a military man, so it was drummed into him. Rhodey was the wild card when it came to signing. The ones that had signed before were covered: Natasha knew why they couldn't sign, and Vision would follow Tony's lead. Rhodey would do what he thought was right, and what he thought was right was to sign. Tony was going to have to persuade him otherwise.

"We can't do it, Rhodey," he said. "Not with them as they are now. I've already looked them over, and my lawyers spent the night analyzing them. They're too dangerous. If trouble comes and we’re not given the orders, we can’t act. In the time it’d take to get the green light, people would die.”

Rhodey sighed. “Tone, I get what you’re saying, and I hate to say this since you already know, but things have gone bad without us being overseen.”

It was kind of him, Tony thought, to include himself in that when Rhodey had no part in the creation of Ultron, and he had not been in Lagos. In fact, Rhodey had been the one doing what he was told all this time.

Tony nodded stiffly. "It's gone bad, yeah, and I do think we need to be overseen, but these Accords are weighted against us right now. If one of us disobeys an order, we can be locked up on The Raft without trial for an indefinite period."

It had happened last time, and only Steve's actions had saved the others from that fate.

Rhodey looked startled, but he quickly worked through it and said, his tone reasonable, “Okay, that’s not good. But don’t you think the ends justify the means?”

“No.”

Rhodey sighed. "This isn't how you work, Tony, and I know it, but you need a chain of command to be safe. Right now, it's all on you. If you're overseen, you and other people will be safer. Believe me, it's better when someone else is calling the shots."

Tony snorted. “Believe me, it isn’t, not with the people calling the shots now— like Ross.”

“What’s the problem with him? I know he doesn’t have a stellar history, and he’s part of what happened to Bruce, but—”

“He’s a monster!” Tony spat. “He’s the worst kind of monster there is. Trust me.”

“You know I do,” Rhodey said, brow furrowed. “But you’ve got to give me more to go on than that.”

The problem was, Ross wasn’t the same monster yet. He’d not taken Peter prisoner and had him tortured, brainwashed. He’d not given the orders that cause a gun to be aimed at Tony’s four-year-old daughter. But he was the person that had done it in the future, in Tony’s past, and that was unforgivable.

"I can't give you more," Tony said. "But you have to trust me when I say he's not the man to be in charge of us."

Rhodey ran a hand over his hair. “He won’t be, though, will he? If there are more than a hundred countries represented in these Accords, it’ll be down to them all.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration welling up. “I’m not saying we never sign. We will, but only when we’ve made the necessary changes. We can’t be at risk of indefinite jail time for doing the right thing.”

“No,” Rhodey said thoughtfully. “I see what you’re saying, but…” He sighed. “Okay. I won’t sign off the bat, I’m trusting you to be doing the right thing, but once we’ve got them to a level I’m satisfied with, I’m signing.”

“Me too,” Tony said, almost sure he was being honest. “I’ll even lend you a pen.”

Rhodey snorted. “I’m sure you will. So, when is Ross coming?”

Tony raised his eyes. “Friday, how far out is he?”

"His helicopter is over Baltimore right now."

Rhodey raised an eyebrow. “Are you tracking the Secretary of State?”

“If you knew what he was capable of, you’d understand,” Tony said darkly. “Now, we’ve got time for breakfast before the asshole arrives. What do you want?”

Rhodey shook his head. “Tone, I ate breakfast after I did my morning jog and calisthenics at six-thirty. We’re closer to lunch now. Really, you need to start sleeping at the right times. You spent too long holed up in the lab in the middle of the night.”

“I will,” Tony said seriously. “I’ll do better. Just you watch.”

He was going to change this time around. He was going to be there for Peter when he needed him, he was going to make time for Pepper and Rhodey, and he was going to be at the top of his game for when they faced the threat coming. Just because he wasn’t going to be able to use The Stones, it didn’t mean Thanos wasn’t going to come looking for them.

Tony was going to be ready.

xXx

Thaddeus Ross, former President of the United States—and he would be again, it was promised—drummed his fingers on the back of the tablet he was holding as the helicopter hovered over the Avengers compound. He hated this place. It had started its life as Stark Industries property, purchased and developed by Howard Stark. Then Tony Stark had inherited it and turned it into the Avengers base and home the previous year. Now, it was Tony Stark's property, and the man always made Ross aware of it every time he visited. Or at least he would. Technically, he'd not been here yet in this time.

It was sometimes confusing to be back in this time and to think of things in the right series of progression. He still felt like that President, and had on that hellish planet, too, even though he was thoroughly defeated. Now he was back as Secretary of State, subservient to Ellis, and he hated it. If only they knew he was far beyond that position now, bigger even than President, though he would take that role again in time. He was one side of Nemesis now, his mind and body combined with the power of Ego. He had never been more powerful in his life, and no one knew.

It was a bitter pill to swallow.

However, it was necessary. He needed to keep his true identity secret as he was here with a mission. He was going to break the Asset at the very depths of his soul, make him weak and unworthy, and then they, Nemesis, would rule absolute.

Ego had explained it all to him. They would rule over the universe as a single entity. He had thought at first, but not been particularly concerned, that Ego would want to kill half the universe the way Thanos had. She had explained that was not her plan, though. In fact, Thanos had betrayed her when he used the Infinity Stones for that purpose.

Ross would not have minded if that was the plan again, as it was in the years after the first snap in which he had ruled over the country, but it was perhaps cleaner and more beneficial than the fullest population was under their control.

The helicopter bobbed as it descended, then, with a soft thumping jostle, it landed. Ross tucked away the tablet he'd been pretending to peruse and got to his feet. In the bag at his feet, he held a copy of the Accords that he'd brought for Stark to sign. He had no doubt it would be signed, as it had been before. Even though Stark’s lawyers had been couriered copies for examination the day before, even though Stark must now know they were weighted against him and his friends, he would sign because his guilt for the Ultron debacle was overwhelming.

Stark’s distress pleased Ross in all times he experienced it. Even before Stark recruited that menace Spider-Man, leading to him being on that battlefield, within reach of the Stones to use for all that followed, Ross had hated Stark’s assumed superiority—and his far more plentiful wealth, too.

The helicopter door was opened, and Ross stepped down and onto the concrete helipad. He was sure Stark knew he had arrived, but he did not come to greet him—he had not last time, either. In fact, he'd kept Ross waiting while a member of staff retrieved him from his lab where he was tinkering with his inventions.

As before, one of Stark's minions was waiting for him: Maria Hill, who'd been a prominent member of SHIELD before their fall and was now just another Stark lackey. She greeted him politely and said, “Mr. Stark is waiting for you in the conference room, sir.”

Ross liked being called sir, especially by someone that had thought themselves superior to him before, and it took him a moment to recognize the difference as he was preening so much.

When it occurred to him, he said, “Stark is in the conference room?”

“Yes, sir. Colonel Rhodes is with him.”

Ross stopped dead a moment, eyebrows raised and confusion swimming in his mind. This was different. Not only had Stark made him wait before, but he’d also come alone to the meeting. Why Rhodes was there now, Ross didn’t know or understand.

Ego said time was a fluid thing, that it could be changed, but that would only create new timelines. However, that was only for anyone other than him. With her power behind him, the power now shared, he could change time and events and enable others to do the same. The people he planned to bring into his mission to break the Asset had not been there before, working for him, but they would be this time.

How and why Stark’s path had changed now, he didn’t know. He couldn’t ask Ego while he was with Hill, as she would surely question it if he spoke to himself, but he was a little perturbed.

He banished the question and followed Hill. They rode down in the elevator to the second floor, and then Hill led him towards the conference room. He followed, head held high, brimming with confidence, and then he waited as she opened the door for him.

She went in first to announce him, and he pushed past her and said, “Stark, thank you for being ready for me. I expected some powerplay delay.”

Ross’ eyes were set above Stark’s head as he addressed him, something he’d learned disconcerted people and set him as the dominant person in the room, as people craved eye contact and connection. However, when Stark answered, his eyes snapped to him.

“I thought it was better to have the meeting began and ended sooner,” Stark said stiffly.

This was not the Tony Stark he was expecting.

Though Stark had clearly never liked Ross, he'd always kept the front of the confident and calm man he created to deal with the media—the sarcasm and wit that he prided himself on. There was more in his eyes now than just dislike, though. Stark’s eyes showed genuine hatred, even though his face was a carefully controlled mask.

Ross was taken off guard, and he couldn’t speak. Instead, his eyes moved between Stark and Rhodes, surveying them.

Unlike Stark, Rhodes showed no unusual emotion in their interaction, and he was the first to offer Ross a hand to shake. Stark seemed to have to force himself to shake Ross’ hand when it was offered, and his grip was a lighter than his usual firm shake—almost as if he was being careful not to crush him.

Ego roused in his mind, her tone furious. _‘How can this have happened? How did he do this? He has given it to him!’_

Ross had no idea what she meant, and he couldn’t ask. He was disconcerted, though, and wished he could talk to her. He supposed he could excuse himself to use the bathroom, but that wasn’t the right way to begin this while looking strong. Stark had never respected him, even before he hated him as he apparently did now. If Ross gave evidence that he could not hold his water long enough for a meeting, Stark’s opinion would become even more scathing.

He gave his head a small shake, dismissed Ego's words, and said, "Now, Stark, you already know why I am here, since your lawyers were given an advance preview of the subject. Have you had a chance to peruse the Accords yourself?"

“Oh yes,” Stark said, pulling a chair back from the table and sitting, without inviting Ross to do the same, crossing his ankle over his knee. “I read it all.”

Ross doubted that, as he himself had three days to read them the first time he’d lived through this year and had not finished. He’d been given the cliff-notes from the committee, though, each wonderful detail which would bring them under his control, and ultimately led to the Avengers being torn apart.

“And what do you think?” Ross asked.

Tony opened his mouth, a hard look in his eyes, and then he took a breath, closed his eyes a moment, then said, “I think they’re a great idea, in essence, but I cannot sign them as they are.”

Ross’ eyes widened. “Excuse me, what?”

This was not what had happened before. It had barely taken any encouragement at all to make Stark sign. Ross had made all the right noises about making alterations in the future while pushing the urgency and giving subtle reminders of what Stark had done to make the Accords necessary. In fact, Stark had been less reluctant to sign than Ross had expected him to be, famously bull-headed as he was.

"I can't sign them as they are," Stark said. "They could be turned into a weapon against us too easily. There need to be alterations to protect our human rights if I'm to sign."

Ross pushed down his shock, took a measured breath, and said, "Of course, we'd expected as much, but you should sign now to be in a better position to make changes later. If you read them, you know they will be passed even if not a single person signs. If that happens, you will all be unable to act in any capacity with the technology and enhancements you have. You, Stark, will not be allowed to ever put on an Iron Man suit again.”

Stark rubbed his chin. “Technically, I don’t think you can decide what I wear, but you can absolutely stop me from acting as Iron Man. At least, you can arrest me for doing it. But that’s fine. I will not do anything as Iron Man until I’ve signed.” He leaned forwards. “And I will not sign until changes have been made.”

This was all wrong. Stark should be signing. This wasn’t something Ross was changing as he’d followed the script from before almost perfectly—it was impossible, and yet it was happening. Ross did not understand how or why, but he was facing an unforseen complicaton in their plans now.

Ross and Ego had discussed what to do with Spider-Man at length. It had been decided that they were not using Ross' power as a politician and influence on the Accords against him. They could, as Spider-Man acted as a vigilante, which would be illegal after the Accords were ratified, but they had bigger plans. Instead of politically, they were going to target him on a personal level. Somehow, the Stones had decreed him worthy to bear them, something Ego said should be impossible for any human due to their innate weaknesses and flaws, so they had to change that.

No one knew it apart from Ross and Ego, but Spider-Man was going to be systematically targeted in ways that would break his character, destroy his morality, and make him unworthy.

It wouldn’t even be difficult with the plan Ross was preparing to put into motion.

Ross dismissed Stark with a flick of his hand and addressed Rhodes. “What do you think, Colonel Rhodes? You were not invited to this meeting by me, so I assume Stark has already talked against the Accords. I know you, though; you’re a military man, just like me. Are you going to obey orders and sign? Remember, these orders do not come from President Ellis or even the World Security Council. They are the combined orders of one-hundred and seventeen countries.” He narrowed his eyes. “Will you obey those orders, Colonel?”

Rhodes took a deep breath then glanced at Stark, whose lips pressed into a thin line. Rhodes looked down at the table for a moment and then said, "No, sir. I cannot accept these orders as they stand."

Ross nodded, knowing Stark had gotten to him and that it was useless to argue. How this had happened, he didn’t know, but it was not an issue with his grander plan for Spider-Man; it was just a wrinkle in his plans as Secretary of State.

 _‘We need to talk alone,’_ Ego said. _‘Your human power machinations are immaterial compared to what the child has done. Go now.’_

Ross nodded and said, “There’s obviously no point talking about this now. I will be in touch with you both and your team soon, but you should know that this is going to happen regardless. With or without your signatures, The Accords will become law.”

Stark nodded, eyes fixed on Ross with ill-concealed hatred, but Rhodes cast his eyes down again, looking uncomfortable. 

It didn’t matter to Ross. Let the Avengers fight this among themselves or in the halls of power. Ross had a greater target than them. He was going to serve Ego, serve himself, and put the plan in motion for them to seize the power that the Asset stole.

“I’ll see you out,” Rhodes said.

“No need,” Ross said dismissively. “I know my way.”

He got to his feet and swept from the room, along the hall to the elevator, and summoned a car. When it arrived, he got in, allowed it to move up a floor, and then pulled on the emergency button to halt its progress.

“What is happening?” he asked aloud.

 _‘Soon,’_ Ego said. _‘Get somewhere we can talk.’_

Frustrated, Ross set the elevator in motion again, exited on the roof, and approached the helicopter. The pilot clearly did not expect him back so soon, as he was leaning against the side and scrolling on his phone. He jumped into action as Ross approached, though, opened the door, and stepped aside.

Ross climbed in, settled in his seat, then when the door had closed behind him, murmured, “I’m ready,” then felt himself tipping into the private place where he could commune with Ego.

It was the Oval Office, the place which he'd once presided over with supreme satisfaction. Now there were two chairs, one in front of the vast desk and the other behind. It was in the place of power behind the desk that Ego sat, though to an observer, she looked like a man she said was called Kaecilius who'd been a vessel for her before Ross had been gifted with her presence.

Ross took his seat in the subservient position opposite, resenting it internally but never allowing it to show on his face, though she surely knew as she had access to his mind.

“What just happened?” he asked.

Her hands fisted on the desk, and her eyes hardened. "That man has been gifted with Time."

“You mean he’s out of time as well?”

“Yes, I mean that and the fact he actually bears the Time Stone by extension. The child gifted him with a connection to the Stone and sent him here.” She narrowed her eyes. “The child knows we’re here and has sent defenders.”

Ross shook his head, a reluctant laugh bursting from him.

“There is nothing funny about this,” Ego snarled. “Tony Stark is equally able to change things in time as you are. He can set his own path.”

“He is,” Ross agreed. “But he cannot set the Asset’s path. Trust me, Stark will not be able to defend him from us and what we’re going to do. Perhaps we cannot physically harm the Asset with Iron Man watching over him, but that was never the plan, was it?”

She nodded slowly. “True, it was not. What are you thinking?”

"I am thinking it's immaterial that Stark is here, too. It's the Asset's spirit that I will break. All Stark can do is watch it happen."

“And you still believe that’s possible?”

“I am certain of it,” Ross said fiercely. After all I did to the Asset, his revenge was not to kill me. He’s not a murderer yet. With what we’re going to do to him, we will make him one. That is what will break him, make him unworthy, and we have two years to do it. Trust me, the only difference in Stark being here is that he will be a witness to what’s to come.” He laughed again. “And that could not be a more perfect revenge. Let Stark fight the Accords; perhaps he will even win. What matters to you and I is that we break the Asset, and we will.”

She stared into his eyes, seeming to be seeing right through to his soul, and then nodded. "Play your role. I do not want them to know you're back, too. If you're going to fulfill your wish to be the leader in your stilted human way, you need a clean reputation. Your part in the breaking of the child cannot be known."

Ross smiled smugly. “Don’t worry; no one will know. I will play my part.”

He knew exactly what he needed to do to achieve his ends, and he was going to succeed.

The Asset would not defeat Ross again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Evil Ross! As much as I hate him, I do enjoy writing him. He’s an interesting character, especially now he’s one half of Nemesis. I know he’s sometimes tough to read, though, so I won’t use him too often.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Wednesday’s update.  
> The overwhelming feedback was that I should keep the chapters to a length that worked for me while I can maintain the regular updates, so I’ll be sticking with the system I have now. This chapter is a nice long one anyway.  
> This story is going great where I’m working on it now. I had the arc I’m at already plotted out, but I realized it was too easy a solution after the build-up. This is Peter going against something huge, and the stakes need to match that. I had a great chat with Gredelina1, and we came up with an arc that's deserving of the story. I think you'll really enjoy it.

Steve was no stranger to speeches, and the people he was talking to were his friends, but he was still unusually anxious. He reminded himself that this was basically a mission brief, nothing new, and they were all fairly sure the others were going to agree with them and refuse to sign to Accords. That only helped so much, though. Everything rode on them all being in unison with this.

With all eyes on him, he finished his speech to the room with a firm, “So, you see, we can’t sign them.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Rhodey, who looked pensive. Tony had said he’d already briefed Rhodey on the situation and had persuaded him not to sign until the changes had been made, but Steve wasn’t that confident in his analysis, looking at Rhodey now. 

“So, you want us to refuse an order from the United Nations?” Vision asked, his tone inflectionless.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and sat back on the couch. “Pretty much, Vis, yeah.”

“This is because of me,” Wanda said quietly. “Because of what I did.”

“No,” Tony said firmly. “This is not on you, Wanda. It’s not your fault.”

Wanda looked surprised at Tony’s defense, which made sense because Tony and Wanda had been distant before—something that wasn’t eased until after Vision’s return and Wanda’s overwhelming happiness. There were reluctant grudges on both sides. Tony hadn’t forgiven her for messing with his mind, and Wanda still remembered the bomb with Stark Industries emblazoned on the side which had destroyed her life.

"This was set in motion a long time ago," Tony went on. "Maybe even before Ultron. We've been judged since the beginning for the damage we leave behind. Hell, people complained about the property damage caused while we were fighting the Chitauri in New York, even though it was caused by saving their lives. Lagos just gave them a good excuse to come after us now. It would have happened anyway. These documents took months to prepare; we just didn't know it was happening in secret."

Wanda nodded slightly, and Vision gave her a tentative smile, which she returned. 

“If we refuse to sign, we have more power to create change,” Steve said, reminding himself irresistibly of Peter when Fury came to them to demand a press conference. “If we sign now, we’ll be bound by them and have no sway to our arguments.”

“But if we don’t sign, we all have to stand down,” Rhodey said. “Essentially, we’ve got to retire.”

“For a while,” Tony said quickly. “And there won’t be a threat to face for a while now anyway. Hydra is done.”

“You got a crystal ball, Tony?” Clint asked. “I wish I’d known. You could have warned us before all this crap started.”

“I don’t have a crystal ball,” Tony said, his lips twitching with a smile, perhaps thinking of his son and what they all knew thanks to him. “But I’m confident nothing is coming.”

“How do we know they’ll let us make changes?” Rhodey asked. “This isn’t SHIELD or the World Security Council. It’s the United Nations. It’s bigger than us. We answer to them—not the other way around.”

“Because they need us,” Steve said. “The world is safer with us active.”

“And it’s not bigger than us,” Tony said. “I know you’ve heard this from me before, but threats are coming. I don’t think they’re coming yet, but they will come. I’ve seen what’s out there. If they shackle us, they’ll have no one to defend them.”

“Not unless we all risk getting put behind bars,” Clint muttered.

“Which we would all do,” Natasha said. “But why should we have to? Tony’s right—threats are coming. If we’re handcuffed by the Accords, we’ll be slower on the defense. I'm not saying we refuse forever. I, for one, am not giving up my human rights to appease the UN, though."

“We can do this,” Tony said emphatically. “We’ve just got to show a united front.”

Steve and Tony locked eyes, and Steve nodded his agreement. They needed to be together.

If it was the only way, Steve would sign, but it wasn’t the only way. He knew he could face the threat and act as an outlaw when the time came, but he didn’t particularly want to live on the run again for two years. More than that, he didn’t want the Avengers to fall apart. They were more powerful when they were united as a team. As Tony had pointed out, Thanos would come no matter what, even if the Stones were destroyed, so they had to be together to face him.

Rhodey looked between Steve and Tony, his eyes narrowed, and then he said, “Okay, I want to know what’s really going on.”

Tony schooled his face into innocence, though his eyes were wary, and said, “I don’t know what you mean. We’ve told you what’s going on.”

“No.” Rhodey leaned forward in his seat, hands planted on his knees. “I know you, Tone, and I can tell something more is going on. What are you hiding from us?”

Tony opened his mouth to answer, closed it again, then looked at Steve, who shrugged. Maybe now was the right time to tell them. They would have to eventually anyway. Vision wasn't going to give up the Mind Stone unless they could give him a good reason, and they would need the full team to persuade Doctor Strange to give up the Time Stone.

“It’s time,” Natasha said, giving Steve and Tony a significant look.

Rhodey’s eyes snapped the three of them. “Time for what?”

Tony took a deep breath. “Okay, yeah, we’re not telling you everything, but—”

He cut off as Vision clapped his hands to his head and gave a low groan.

“Vision?” Wanda said, placing a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

Vision lowered his arms, revealing his eyes, which were now a shade of yellow. They were the exact same shade as that in Peter’s eyes; they were also very clearly pained.

“Peter?” Tony said, rushing towards him and crouching in front of him.

“Who’s Peter?” Rhodey asked, and the confused question was repeated by Sam, Clint, and Wanda.

Vision shook his head. “No. Mind. Peter cannot come yet.” He drew a deep breath, which seemed to strain him. “I cannot talk long. The connection is weak because Peter is.”

“Peter’s weak?” Tony asked. “What happened?”

"He expended too much energy, sending you here, and maintaining the connection between Time and yourselves is draining him."

Tony cursed and raked a hand through his hair. “Then tell him to stop.”

“He can’t,” Natasha said. “You know that.” She addressed Vision. “Why are you talking to us now? What’s wrong?”

Vision squeezed his eyes closed. “We need you to know you are doing it wrong. This is not why…" He started panting, and his hands cradled his head again. "You were not sent here to do this."

“You mean the Accords?” Steve asked. “Are we supposed to sign?”

“No. The Accords do not matter; they’re nothing to us. You’re doing it wrong, though.” He began to shake, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. “It’s not about the UN or Thanos. It’s—”

He cut off with a cry, and then his hands dropped, and he slumped forwards. Tony caught him, calling, "Mind? Pete?" but Vision's eyes were closed, and his face was lax. However Peter had achieved it, the connection was lost.

"Vision?" Wanda asked, her tone worried. "Can you hear me?"

Sam approached, reached out as if to take Vision’s pulse, then dropped his hand as the reality of the situation settled over him.

Tony stood and moved away, hands raking through his hair, and Steve placed a hand on his shoulder. "Queens will be okay, Tony," he said.

“Did you hear him?” Tony snapped. “Peter’s weak, and the strain of connecting us is too much for him."

“He can handle it,” Natasha said. “You know he’ll live.”

“He’ll live, but he will suffer,” Tony growled. “Dammit, Pete, take us back!”

“Take you back?” Rhodey asked, his voice holding a hint of annoyance as well as confusion.

Before Tony could answer, Vision made a small sound of pain and then straightened up. All eyes snapped to him, and he looked around the room as if stunned to see them with him. His lips parted, and then he said, "Where was I? Who was that boy?"

“You saw Peter?” Tony asked, heart skipping.

“I don’t know his name,” Vision said. “I was in a room. It looked like your workshop, but there was a table and other people there—one of them was Thor’s brother, Loki. The boy told me he was sorry, but he needed to speak to you. He said it wouldn't take long. He had to exchange our places."

“You saw Peter,” Tony repeated, now an affirmation, hand on his chest over his racing heart. “How did he look?”

Vision frowned. “Who is Peter?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Steve said. “How did he look, the kid?”

Vision considered a moment, then said, "Ill. He looked very ill."

Tony made a sound of pain, and Steve squeezed his shoulder. There were voices around them, questions being asked, but Steve’s focus was on getting Tony through his crisis. He understood how Tony felt as he was worried about Peter, too, and hated the idea of him suffering, but Peter could _not_ die. He was immortal. No matter what he did, what happened to him, he would live.

Steve was more worried about what they were doing wrong.

Rhodey's voice broke over the others in the room, close to a shout. "Who is Peter, and what the hell is going on?"

Tony raked a hand over his face and said, “Okay. Yeah. Peter… Friday, pull up the yearbook picture of Peter Parker.”

The TV behind them switched on automatically, and a picture of Peter appeared. Steve was struck by how young he looked. He’d not seen him this age without the mask. He really was just a kid, only fourteen years old. Steve felt a pang of longing to see him again, to talk to him, to just be close to him.

“That’s who I saw,” Vision said. “But he looked different—older. And his eyes were…” He shook his head.

Rhodey got to his feet, seemingly without thought, and approached the TV. "That is not possible," he said under his breath. "It can’t be!”

Steve was bewildered, but Tony sucked in a breath and laughed inexplicably.

“You’ve seen him before, haven’t you, Rhodey?” Tony asked.

Rhodey nodded, his eyes unfocused and bewildered. “I think I did, or I dreamed of him. It had to have been a dream—that can’t have been real.”

It clicked into place in Steve’s mind, and he realized what Tony was saying. Peter had gone to Rhodey in 2009 when Tony was being held in Afghanistan. Rhodey had told them about it. Peter had reassured him that Tony would be found and that he was about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime, one that Rhodey would join him on. He remembered the fondness in Rhodey’s eyes as he’d told them about Peter, the awe in his voice as he’d shared the story.

“You too, Sam?” Steve asked, turning to his friend.

Sam was sitting forward in his seat, head in his hands, which were shaking slightly. "Yeah," he said quietly. “I think so anyway.”

"Well, I've not seen him," Clint said, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, I guess me and Wanda are missing out on whatever great revelation this is.”

"No," Wanda said quietly. "I've seen him, too. He saved Pietro and me when the bomb dropped."

Tony huffed a laugh and locked eyes with Steve, an unspoken message in his eyes— _this just got a lot easier._ Steve nodded in return. 

"Peter came to see you in Afghanistan when you were looking for me, Rhodey," Tony said. "He came to Sam when his wingman was shot down."

"Riley," Sam said, face still hidden. "Was he really there?" He lowered his hands and looked at Steve. "I thought it had to be some kind of stress-induced hallucination because I also remember him not being there, though that’s vaguer, more distant—like a dream.”

“Sam for me,” Rhodey said. “I saw him, I think, but I figured it was sleep-deprivation.”

“He was there,” Steve said with satisfaction. “He was there for all of you.”

“Not me,” Clint said. “I’ve never seen that kid before in my life.”

“No, he didn’t come to you,” Tony said. “He was there for me, Steve, Bruce, Wanda, Sam, and Rhodey, though. He came to all of us at some of the worst moments of our life, when we needed him most, and he helped us.”

"That's what Queens does," Steve said, his love for the kid evident in his voice. "Peter, I mean. He helps. That's why we're here; he needs something from us to help others.”

“And how exactly do you know this kid and we don’t?” Clint asked. “And how the hell did he do this… ‘visiting’ thing for you guys?”

“Time travel,” Tony said, his eyes roving their faces. “Peter can time travel with the Time Stone, and he’s made it possible for us to do that, too. We’re actually here from seven years in the future,”

Clint snorted, and Sam looked doubtful. Steve thought Wanda believed them, though. She nodded and then said, "He looked different when he came to me. I don't just mean he was older. I mean, he was wearing a strange suit."

Tony nodded. “Show us Spider-Man, Friday.”

Peter's face vanished from the screen and was replaced by a shaky video of Peter in a shabby, clearly homemade suit, swinging into the shot and landing neatly in the road, to catch a speeding car before it could collide with a bus. Steve knew how strong Peter was, he'd seen the proof of it in the BARF simulation of him lifting a building from himself, but it was still shocking evidence playing out in front of him.

And that was a fourteen-year-old boy.

“That’s Peter Parker,” Steve said when it became clear Tony wasn’t going to speak, his eyes fixed instead on the looping video of his son. “He’s also Spider-Man. A superhero based in Queens. He’s one of us. An Avenger.”

Clint made a sound of incredulity. “He’s just a kid, Steve. No matter what he can do in a suit, none of us would make him one of us."

Tony grimaced and flicked off the TV. “He won’t be one of us for two years. And then it’s a battlefield commission before what basically amounted to the end of the world as we know it.”

“Peter is the one that saved the world,” Steve added.

Rhodey moved away from the TV and sat down again, eyes distant.

“Peter is my son,” Tony said, voice slightly strained. “Not the result of some careless one-night stand fourteen years ago. He’s the son I met, or would have met, three weeks from now when I recruited Spider-Man to fight Steve. He’s not my blood, but he _is_ my kid.”

“You recruited a child to fight against _Steve_?” Rhodey asked, eyebrows high.

Tony ran a hand over his face, then sat down again and leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “Me, Steve, and Nat _are_ here from 2023. Until you start saying we don’t look old enough, it’s not our bodies that were sent back. It’s our minds, our souls. Peter did it—he sent us here.” Seeing Rhodey’s incredulous look, Tony went on, a small smile quirking his lips. “Peter is, in 2023, the most powerful person in the universe. He possesses the Infinity Stones, like the one Vision has. They’re part of him, and he can do all kinds of things. He’s incredible. He sent us back with the Time Stone to do something big.”

“But we don’t know what anymore,” Steve sighed, a hand coming to run through his hair.

“We don’t, not really.” A hard look came into Tony’s eyes. “At least we don’t know what _he_ wants us to do. But we know him and what he does. He sent us here to do something for the good of others, and we’re going to do that no matter what his plan was. We’re not changing our mission for the Stones and Thanos.”

Natasha nodded curtly, eyes hard. “Agreed.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. He thought they should do whatever it was Peter wanted from them, whenever they found out what that was. As much as he wanted to stop Thanos and save the world that pain, Peter was the one that had sent them here for his own reasons. Shouldn’t they trust him and do what he needed?

“Why were you fighting Steve?” Wanda asked, drawing Steve from his thoughts.

Tony glanced at Steve, frowning slightly in remembrance. “When we lived through these years last time, Steve refused to sign the Accords. So did you, Sam, Clint, and Wanda. Me, Nat, Rhodey, and Vision did sign. We probably could have worked that out, but Bucky Barnes…”

“Is he here?” Steve interrupted.

“Yeah. I brought him back last night, once I was sure Ross wasn’t coming again." He paused a moment, then said, "Friday, ask Bucky to come in."

“Bucky Barnes is here!” Sam said loudly. “You found him?”

Steve nodded. “We did—would have in a few weeks after he was framed for a terrorist attack.”

The door opened behind them, and Bucky came in, eyes darting around nervously.

Rhodey rounded on Tony, eyes blazing with anger. “Jesus, Tony! Do you know the position you’re putting me in with him in the same room?”

Tony clearly hadn’t thought about it. He looked downcast but determined. Steve knew it was a risk to expose Bucky to Rhodey, as he was bound by honor, orders, and duty to report Bucky's presence by his rank and occupation.

Steve didn't think he would report it, though. Rhodey had to know there were bigger things to worry about now that he was face to face with the truth about how they were here.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve said.

Bucky smiled slightly and nodded. “So, you told them?”

"We did," Tony said. "Not that we had a good reason not to. Mind spoke to us through Vision, and Vision was with the Stones and Peter."

Bucky's wide eyes snapped to Vision, and he said, "Peter! How is he?”

“He’s struggling,” Steve answered before Vision could, wanting to soften the blow of the truth to save Bucky the fear for the kid he loved. “But he’s strong.” Bucky didn’t look appeased, but Steve spoke up, hoping to distract him. “Rhodey, Sam, and Wanda remember him from before, too, when he went to help them.”

“Okay, I need to hear the full story,” Clint said. “What the hell is going on, and what are you supposed to be doing? According to crazy-eyes over there, you’re doing it wrong.”

“You want to tell them?” Tony asked Steve.

Steve nodded, braced himself, then said, “There is a Titan called Thanos, and he’s coming for us…”

xXx

As Steve finished, Sam held up a hand and said, "So, there's an alien with a scrotum for a chin that's going to snap his fingers and wipe away half the universe, then you're going on a… What did you call it? Time Heist? You’re going to get these Stones and recreate the snap, which will bring everyone back just before an army descends on this place to wipe us out because the alien did his own time jump?”

“Basically, yeah,” Steve said.

Sam blew out a breath and slumped back against the cushions.

“And you died, Nat?” Clint asked.

Natasha nodded. “I died, but Peter brought me back.”

Tony listened to the other questions being asked around him, giving them only half of his attention. The rest of it was on Rhodey, who was staring down at his lap, brow furrowed. Tony wished he knew what his best friend was thinking, but Rhodey would only talk in his own time, so he didn't bother to push.

Perhaps feeling Tony’s eyes on him, Rhodey looked up and smiled slightly. “You’ve got a kid, huh?”

Tony had decided before that he wasn't going to tell anyone else about Morgan because he didn't want Pepper to know until it happened naturally. He wasn't going to take away the joy of experiencing it first-hand from her by giving her forewarning. Steve, Natasha, and Bucky had all agreed not to mention her either. He could tell them all about Peter, though, and he wanted to.

“Is that the hardest part of this whole thing to believe?” he asked, eyebrow quirked.

Rhodey shook his head. “No, maybe not the hardest, but it’s way up there on the list. How did it even happen? I mean, you, a father.”

“Pete has this way of…” Tony laughed softly and shook his head as he thought of the kid he loved. “It’s too hard not to love him when you know him.”

Bucky chuckled and nodded his agreement, and Steve and Natasha were smiling.

“He’s a good kid,” Tony said. “I don’t mean well-behaved—because he's really not. But as a person, he's the best I've ever known. The fact he has the Stones is proof of it."

He wished Mind could have stayed longer, not just because he could have told them what it was he wanted them to do, also because Mind could have explained Peter and his goodness better than him.

“He’s worthy,” he finished.

“What does that mean?” Wanda asked.

“It means he’s a good person in a way very few are,” Vision said. “He has pure intentions.”

Tony started to laugh, drawing all eyes to him.

“What’s funny?” Sam asked, looking annoyed.

Tony calmed slightly, rubbing his chest, and said, “It’s just… that’s exactly what we’re talking about. Peter really is the best of us. Vis had him for what, two minutes, tops, and yet he sees it.”

"He was kind to me," Vision said, brow furrowed. "He knew I was confused and thought I might perhaps be scared. He apologized and told me I was safe and would be back here soon with Wanda." He glanced at Wanda and said, "I appreciated knowing that"

Wanda’s cheeks pinked slightly, and Tony turned away to hide his smile.

Of course, Peter wouldn't know, but Vision and Wanda were still just friends in this time. Their connection hadn't built to the love that it would be in the future. Judging from the look on Vision's face, however, he already felt more than friendship; Wanda's light blush indicated more, too. Peter might be setting things in motion faster this time.

“So, he’s some kind of saint?” Clint asked doubtfully.

Tony snorted. "No! He's really not. Hell, he can drive me crazy. He's a bit better where we are, matured some, but he's still a reckless idiot that—" He cut off shook his head as he remembered how it had felt when he found out Peter had taken off alone after Kaecilius. "We're so worried about him because, before he sent us back, he was in a hospital bed with injuries I can't even begin to describe because the idiot took off on his own instead of doing what he was told and taking backup."

Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. She hadn't been happy when Peter ducked out on her, and she’d felt guilty when he’d come back injured—though she’d have been helpless to protect him if she’d been there. Peter hadn’t put her under the Baby Monitor Protocol at that point, and, even as strong as he was, he’d been trashed. Natasha wouldn’t have stood a chance.

“If he’s as powerful as you say, how was he hurt?” Sam asked.

“Because there’s a bigger enemy than Thanos out there,” Tony said. “There’s someone called Ego.”

“And who’s that?” Clint asked.

"We don't know much about her," Bucky said. "She was the source of the Infinity Stones at the dawn of creation. She was a single entity that broke herself apart, creating the pieces that became the seven stones. Peter has six—Mind, Power, Space, Soul, Time, and Reality. We didn't know there was a seventh until later, but that one was called Ego, and apparently is part of Nemesis now—combined with someone else. Ego was using someone called Kaecilius to attack Peter, as Nemesis, killing him in different times and dimensions, trying to find the right one. They couldn’t do it, though. Peter is immortal.”

Rhodey whistled. “So, when you say he’ll live, you really mean it.”

“We do,” Tony said, voice heavy with remembered pain. “But he can still be hurt, and he was, badly.”

“But Vision said you’re doing it wrong,” Clint said, bringing them back to the mission in a way Tony resented, his thoughts filled with Peter. “It’s not about the Accords, so what if it’s about this Nemesis instead? Maybe that’s why you’re here—to stop them.”

Tony considered a moment. That idea hadn’t occurred to him. If it was Nemesis they were here for, how were they supposed to stop them? Nemesis was far more powerful than them.

“No,” Bucky said firmly. “It’s not that.”

“How do you know?” Clint asked.

“Because it’s Queens,” Steve said, apparently thinking along the same track as Bucky. “Queens, I mean Peter, would never send us after them after what Ego did to him. He wouldn’t put us in that kind of danger. It was us he sent: me—Tony, Natasha, and Bucky. You were in the room with us when it happened, Rhodey, but you weren’t sent back, too.”

“I wonder why that is,” Bucky said thoughtfully. “Rhodey would have been good to have on our side.”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m glad he didn’t. I don’t know what’s happening in the future, what’s happening with our bodies while we’re here, if time is moving at all, but at least Rhodey is there taking care of him.” Seeing Rhodey’s blank look, he went on. “Out of all of us, Peter is closest to me, you, Bucky, and Steve. We can’t be there, but you can. You’ll take care of him for us.”

"We're close, then?" Rhodey asked. "Me and this Peter."

A satisfied smile spread across Tony’s face. “You really are. You’ll all understand it soon, once you meet him.”

"I think I get it now," Rhodey said. "In a way, at least. The kid I met was… different. He had this energy that I guess I liked, even though I thought it was some kind of… episode." He huffed a laugh. "The fact he told me you were his father was one of the things that made me sure it wasn't real, but…"

“But he’s my son,” Tony said. “And you’re going to love him when you get to know him, which will happen soon. I’ve just got to finetune the details.”

Steve frowned, “What are you planning, Tony?”

“I think it’s best that the Avengers keep their distance from Spider-Man until the Accords are put to bed,” Tony said. ”But no one can stop me hiring a promising high schooler to be my intern.”

"Smart," Bucky said approvingly.

"That's all great and all, and I'm glad you all get to see the kid, but haven't we got bigger problems right now?" Clint asked. "Maybe we're not facing this Ego or Nemesis, whoever, but this Thanos is coming, we’ve got the Accords, and didn't you say someone's going to frame Barnes for a terrorist attack? Not to mention the fact you don’t know what the kid actually sent you here for!"

Steve’s smile faded. “Yeah. I know.”

“We've got time," Tony said. “And what Peter wants isn’t the issue right now. We’ve got one mission already.”

“How long do we have?” Wanda asked.

“Thanos comes May 2018 and destroys everything.”

“No,” Bucky said. “Thanos comes May 2018 and dies. Whatever else we’re doing wrong, we’re doing that part right. We’ll wait until we can talk to Mind again to find out the rest.”

Tony nodded. “May 2018.”

They would find out what Peter wanted from them in time, and they’d deal with it. What Tony cared about even more was stopping Thanos so he would never have to live without his son again.

xXx

There was a knock on the door to the dingy apartment, and Ross crossed the room then hesitated before opening it.

The man waiting on the other side was expected, wanted, but Ross still felt a curl of dislike for him. This man had complicated his plan before.

Ross had hoped to have the Avengers under his control, following the rules of the Accords, but his interference had split them and left Ross with only a few to rule while the others lived on the run, without his control or even his direction.

 _‘We need him,’_ Ego said, her tone scolding. _‘Need I remind you that this was your idea?”’_

Ross gave his head a small shake and said, “He is who we need, but I don’t have to like it.”

_‘Perhaps not, but you will not show it. Let him in.”_

Ross sighed and opened the door, then stepped back to allow the man to enter, which he did, looking around the mold-stained walls and battered furniture.

Ross hated being in places like this, but he had to play his new role as Nemesis close to his chest. If anyone in the White House found out what he was doing, he would lose everything. He had acquired a few anonymous places like this over New York and outside DC for his use.

“Mr. Zemo,” he greeted. “Thank you for coming.”

Zemo scowled. “I am a Colonel, General Ross..”

“Of course, forgive me,” Ross said, though he was internally raging at the correction. Zemo was nothing now, not a gazetted soldier; he was a tool.

_‘Control yourself!” Ego growled._

“Why did you want me here?” Zemo asked.

Ross offered him a seat at the dirty table, but Zemo refused it and stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Ross did not sit either, not willing to give Zemo the dominant position in the meeting. 

“I know what you are planning,” he said.

Zemo shook his head. “I’m planning nothing.”

“No?” Ross asked. “You do not intend to interrogate Vasily Karpov to retrieve the information about the remaining Winter Soldiers? You do not want to know the controlling words for James Barnes?"

Zemo's mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened a moment before he regained control and spoke calmly "I see your intelligence services are more proficient than I thought. However, the fact you wanted to meet me here means this is not a sanctioned mission from your government.”

“It is not,” Ross agreed. “I brought you here as I want you to serve me instead of your own ends.”

Zemo snorted. “And what is to stop me killing you here and now? You must know I did not come unarmed.”

A smug smile curled Ross’ lips. “And you know I did not come unarmed either. I will make you an offer, though. Take whatever weapons you brought with you and use them on me. When you see that I remain unharmed, you will understand what I am offering you, what power I hold and why it would be unwise for you to deny me.”

 _‘A gunshot will be heard by humans,’_ Ego said.

Ross wasn’t worried about that. A gunshot in a neighborhood like this was not going to draw people. In a place like this, you locked your doors when you heard gunfire and hoped your loved ones were safe.

Zemo took the gun from the back of his pants and aimed it at Ross’s head. For a moment, it looked like he would shoot, and then he lowered the gun and said, “I am not stupid. If I kill you, I will be hunted and killed in return.”

“Perhaps,” Ross said. “I do not want you to be killed, though. I have a use for you.”

Zemo’s lip curled. “Why would I do anything for you?”

_”Enough,” Ego snapped. “Stop wasting time. Do it!”_

“Tell me what to do?” Ross said.

“You can start by leaving me alone,” Zemo said.

Ross smirked. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

 _‘Get me closer,’_ Ego instructed.

Ross took a step forward, and then he felt his hands rising without his control. His fingers settled over Zemo's temples, and white light poured from them, spreading over his face. Zemo’s mouth opened with what appeared to be a silent scream, and Ross watched curiously. He could feel Ego working within his mind and body, spreading her power through his hands and into the soldier.

When she released her hold on Ross’ body and withdrew back into his mind, she said, _‘Now, just tell him what you want him to do.’_

Ross nodded in return to her and then said, “Zemo, can you hear me?”

Zemo nodded, and the look of scathing disappeared. He now looked at Ross with awe—as he should.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, I know you have been looking for Vasily Karpov, but I can end your search. I will tell you where he is. You need to retrieve a book from him, a red book, and then I will give you your next target.”

“What is my target?”

"It is in Siberia. There is a Hydra base in which there are five fully trained Winter Soldiers waiting for your command. I want you to kill four of them; they're unnecessary. I need one, it doesn't matter which, under your command."

“What will my commands to them be?”

“They will come in time. Use the words you find in the red book to bring the one you choose into line, and then contact me. I will give you your next instructions when you have them."

Zemo nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Ross smiled smugly. Though Ego had told him they were capable of it, together as Nemesis, it was awe-inspiring to see mind control in use. If Ego was to be believed, and he had to reason to doubt her, Zemo would throw himself into a fire now if Ross commanded it.

He didn’t want self-immolation, though. He wanted a Winter Solider to command, prepare, and then set free to terrorize Queens. That was not the extent of his plan, though. When Romanoff had dumped all Hydra files on the internet, he’d also found information on her fellow Black Widow assassins from Hydra’s studies and surveillance of them, one of which he would find and use.

Spider-Man protected the people of Queens from muggings and drug dealers, but he had never faced anything like what Ross was prepared to unleash them. The people Spider-Man was bound to protect were going to suffer while he stood helpless.

Ross would make him unworthy if it was the last thing he ever did. It would take time, he knew, months to put his plans into action, to build what he needed, but he had that time. The boy would not be within reach of the Stones for seven years, though he would be gone for five of them. Ross had two years to break him, to make him unworthy, and he could be patient.

One way or another, Spider-Man was going to break. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… They all know now — and we know a little of Ross’ plan. He’s so evil but so fun to write. What do you think?  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Saturday’s update!   
> I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for this one as we will finally meet 2016 Peter! I can’t wait to hear what you think.

Rhodey sat down in the kitchen of Tony’s penthouse in the Tower and stared out of the floor to ceiling windows as he sipped his coffee.

He was a little on edge. It had been a week since Steve and Tony shared the implausible story of their presence and of Peter Parker, and today Rhodey was going to meet the kid himself—though, technically, he supposed it was the second time meeting him.

His memory of the kid in Afghanistan was confusing and strange. He remembered the strange eyes, the bright smile and energy of the kid, not to mention the fact that he had so clearly known Rhodey while Rhodey had no idea who he was. He’d dismissed it in the years between, told himself it was some kind of hallucination or dream from stress and lack of sleep during one of the most trying times of his life.

If what Tony and the others said was true, though, and Rhodey no longer doubted them in his heart, that kid was about to become one of the most important people in his life.

Tony said Rhodey was basically his uncle. Rhodey already had a nephew and two nieces, but he'd never imagined Tony would give him another kid to love. If this kid had found a place in Tony's heart, he had to be pretty special—special in more ways than the Stones gave him, which Tony and Steve had not been able to explain enough to satisfy Rhodey.

He finished his coffee and glanced at his watch. It was after ten, a full thirty-minutes after Tony said he wanted to leave. Rhodey was confused as Tony had obviously been excited to go to this science fair to see his kid. He'd emphasized that Rhodey couldn't be late more than once.

That was funny coming from Tony, who was never known for his timekeeping and once kept Rhodey waiting three hours before their flight to Afghanistan. That trip had become a nightmare when Tony had chosen a different Humvee and been kidnapped. Getting the radio call that his convoy was under attack was one of the worst moments of Rhodey's life, and getting to the scene and finding that Tony was missing, not even a body, thank god, to find had been hell. The three months that had followed were a haunting memory, and then that kid had come.

Peter Parker, who Rhodey would love, had come to ease his pain.

Another five minutes ticked by, and Rhodey got to his feet and said, “Friday, where’s Tony?”

“He’s in his bedroom, Colonel,” she reported. “He’s changing his clothes again.”

“Since when was Tony a fashionista,” Rhodey muttered, heading to Tony’s bedroom.

He knocked once, then threw open the door and said, "We're late, Tone, and you were the one that wanted to be on time for this, so… What are you doing?"

Tony was standing in front of the mirror, wearing a white vest and black boxers, and in each hand was a pair of pants. One pair was dark-wash jeans, and the others were navy dress pants. He didn’t even seem to have noticed Rhodey’s arrival.

As Rhodey watched, he lifted the dress pants, held them up to examine, and then lowered them again with a curse.

“No matter what outfit you choose, he’s still going to see Iron Man,” Rhodey said.

Tony startled and spun around, eyes wide. He stared at Rhodey for a moment as if not recognizing him and then relaxed. “That’s the problem,” he said. “I don’t want him to see Iron Man.”

“Okay,” Rhodey said slowly. “Who do you want him to see?”

“Me!” he said emphatically. “Tony!”

Rhodey stared at him a moment, understanding dawning slowly. Tony was about to see the kid he loved as a son, and the kid was going to have no idea who he was. He wouldn’t see his dad; he wouldn’t love him as Steve and Natasha assured Rhodey he did in the future. He was going to see Iron Man, superhero, or perhaps, best case scenario, Tony Stark, genius billionaire. Either way, it wasn’t going to be what Tony wanted.

Rhodey struggled to know what to say. He wanted to reassure Tony, but what could he say when he didn’t know this kid or how Tony and he had bonded before.

He took a breath and worked through the problem in his mind, then asked, “Did you love Peter from the beginning?”

Tony frowned, considering. “No. It took a while. It was complicated. I think it grew from the beginning without me realizing it. At first, he was just an asset for the fight against Steve, and, yes, I know what kind of asshole that makes me, but you don't know what the situation was, what was at stake. I wanted to do right by him after, though. I'd made him a new suit for the fight, and I let him keep it. It was safer than the onesie he was running around in. I created all kinds of features and put protections in place; I figured that'd keep him safe."

Rhodey nodded. “Okay, so you weren’t an asshole. You tried to protect him. When did it become about more than that?”

Tony threw the pants down on the bed and sat down. “When I nearly lost him. I messed up, and so did he. He was out of his depth against this guy, and I thought I could tell him to stand down and take care of it myself. I got the FBI onto it, and I figured it’d be okay. Pete was a stubborn little jerk, though. He went after these arms dealers that were using alien tech, made a mistake, and almost got a ferry full of civilians killed. I was mad as all hell.” He shook his head, eyes distant. “It definitely didn’t feel like love then.”

“But that changed?”

"Yeah. I took the suit back and told him to stand down. I thought he'd go back to his old ways of just patrolling the neighborhood, stopping muggers and getting stranded cats out of trees. He didn't, though, and he shouldn't have had to. The arms dealers came after my store of alien tech, hijacked the plane it was all on. Hell, Rhodey, if they'd gotten hold of it, it would have been a disaster. The damage they could have done…" He winced

“But Peter stopped them?” Rhodey prompted.

"He did. He crashed the plane on Coney Island and caught the arms dealer, a souped-up villain with a damn flying wingsuit.Peter could have died in the crash, and then that asshole went after him, really hurt him.” He smiled slightly. “I think that was when, after that. it became about more than responsibility. I always liked him, even though he could be annoying. He was driving Happy crazy, spamming his inbox, and leaving rambling voicemails, but he was a good kid. After the thing with the plane, I made his internship real, brought him here to work in the lab with me. I started to care about him.”

“He does sound special,” Rhodey said.

“He is.” Tony drew a deep breath. “I didn’t know I loved him until I lost him, though. Steve told you me and Pete were on a different planet when Thanos snapped. He died in my arms, just drifted away into dust. He was scared, in pain, and I couldn’t save him; I couldn't even say anything to comfort him. I only knew when he was gone, with what it did to me, that I loved him, and then it was too late to tell him."

“But he came back,” Rhodey said. “And you told him then.”

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. “I told him. It still took a little time, since I was an idiot about saying it, but I made sure he knew I loved him, that he was my son. He _is_ my son, Rhodey, I love him, but he’s not going to know that when I see him.”

"He's not," Rhodey agreed. "But this is your chance, Tony. You said you didn't see it before, that you weren't there, but you can be this time. You're not going to recruit Spider-Man for a fight—You're going to see Peter Parker. You shouldn't even tell him you know he's Spider-Man until the Accords are done, as it puts you in a prime position for prosecution if Ross finds out you know. You have a chance to get to know Peter as he is now that you missed before. He's not sixteen; he's not the bearer of these crazy power stones. He’s Spider-Man, sure, but he’s also just a kid, and you get to see him grow. You can help him grow.”

Tony stared into the mirror opposite him for a long time, blinking drowsily, and then he jerked as if shocked, and a broad smile spread over his face. "I get a do-over!"

“You do.” Rhodey grinned. “And it’s probably going to be the best thing to ever happen to you.”

A smile quirked Tony's lips, and he shook his head, something in his eyes that Rhodey couldn't define. "It's going to be _one of_ the best things," he said enigmatically.

Tony got to his feet, looked back at the pants on the bed, and said, "I'll aim for Tony Stark instead of Iron Man, but if I screw that up, I'll have time to show him the truth." He grabbed the dress pants, put them on and fastened them, then grabbed an AC/DC shirt from the pile on the chair and put it on. He checked himself in the mirror, then pulled on a sports jacket and grabbed his glasses from the dresser.

“I’m ready,” he said.

Rhodey looked him up and down, saw Tony Stark at his best, and said, “You are. Let’s go.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair then strode out of the room with a spring in his step.

Rhodey thought he’d gotten through to him, and he was pleased. Now he could look forward to meeting Peter Parker without worrying about his best friend.

xXx

Rhodey hadn't spent much time in high schools since his own. He'd done a couple career days for his nieces and nephew, but that was a while ago, and they'd been younger. In fact, he didn't think he'd stepped into a high school since he'd been a student in one.

The memories came rushing back at him, though, when they walked in. He remembered his high school had smelled of bleach left by the overzealous janitor and was always crowded with clamoring voices, the clatter of locker doors, and laughter. The sounds were absent this time, it was unusually quiet, but the smells were the same, and the same rows of lockers were lining the walls.

Tony looked around, too, his eyes seeming to take it all in.

“Brings back memories?” Rhodey asked.

Tony snorted. “Not even a little. You’re forgetting, my high school experience lasted one semester before I tested into college. It’s just I’ve never been here before, and this is a huge part of Peter’s life. Happy used to pick him up and run him to the compound for lab sessions, so I never saw the place apart from when I drove past on my way to his apartment a couple times.” He smiled slightly. “It’s just nice to see it for myself, this part of his world.”

Rhodey still wasn't used to this version of his best friend. He was so vastly different. Tony, as he'd known him two weeks ago, was impulsive and terse. He isolated himself and protected his heart at all costs. There were only a few people that made it past his walls to love and be loved by him. Tony now seemed to be open and free in a way Rhodey had never seen.

He wondered how much of that was Peter Parker and how much was just the natural transition of the additional seven years he'd lived.

A little down the hall was a girl standing beside an easel which bore a placard welcoming them to the science fair. She was writing something on a clipboard, but she looked up when their footsteps reached her. There was a beat in which she smiled politely and said, “Welcome to…” and then she registered who she was talking to, and her mouth snapped shut and eyes widened.

Rhodey wasn’t under any delusions that it was him stunning her into silence. He was War Machine, people knew who he was, but he was nowhere near as iconic as Iron Man. Even before that life had dawned, Tony had been famous as the genius, billionaire, playboy, and whatever other tags the media had for him that week.

"Hi," Tony said, his smile gentler than it would have been even only two weeks ago. "We're here for the science fair."

She nodded, eyes wide, and then seemed to snap back to herself. A blush heated her cheeks. “Of course. Sorry, I was just…” She shook her head.

“It’s fine,” Tony said. “Colonel Rhodes is always stunning people into silence with his good looks. I’m immune after so long, but it’s hard when you’re not used to it.”

She giggled, relaxing visibly. “Well, welcome to Midtown High. The fair is in the gym. I’ll take you there.”

“Great, thanks,” Tony said.

She set down her clipboard, and they followed her along the halls. Tony asked her about her life at school, polite questions that he seemed genuinely curious about the answers to.

Rhodey was struck once again by the difference in his best friend. He thought this was going to take time for him to get used to. It wasn't a bad thing. In fact, it was nice to see the gentler side of Tony shared with more people than just him, Pepper, and Happy. It was different, though—definitely a little jarring.

Voices grew louder as they advanced along the hall, increasing as they reached open double doors and being joined by beeps and sounds of machinery, which Rhodey supposed made sense at a science fair for advanced STEM students.

The girl gestured them ahead, and Tony took the lead inside, then stopped and looked around. Rhodey stepped to his side and took in the room. A couple dozen tables were set up around the room with students displaying their creations, other people milling around them, and younger children dancing between the tables, who Rhodey guessed were siblings of exhibiting students.

“He’s there,” Tony breathed, his eyes wide and fixed on the opposite corner of the room.

Rhodey followed his gaze and saw the kid from the picture Friday had shown him. He looked even younger in person. He was smiling more broadly than he had in the picture, deep in conversation with a boy that looked around the same age, gesticulating wildly and head bobbing.

“We going to go talk to him?” Rhodey asked, watching Tony’s face carefully as he worked through the emotions of shock, awe, sadness, then joy at the sight of his son.

“We are,” Tony said.

He thanked the girl that had led them there, hovering at his side still, and then started to cross the room. People started to notice them as they entered, conversations trailing off and then starting again with more excitement.

Rhodey watched Peter as he took in the change in the room, and he saw the moment he realized who was there, Iron Man himself, as his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. His friend was in no better condition. His hand was over his chest, and his mouth was working fast.

Before they could go far, a man in glasses with neatly trimmed brown hair and beard intercepted them and said, “Hello, gentlemen. I’m Roger Harrington. Can I help you?” 

His voice was calm and polite, but his eyes showed the turmoil behind the professional façade. Rhodey supposed Tony Stark was pretty admirable to a teacher in a STEM school as well as its students. 

“Tony Stark. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington,” Tony said, extending a hand to the teacher who shook it. “This is James Rhodes.”

"Yes, I know," Mr. Harrington said with a small smile. "I have to admit, I didn't expect to see either of you gentlemen at our ittle fair."

Tony smiled ingratiatingly “I wanted to get a look at the kind of talent you're hiding here. As you may know, my company has internships for promising students."

“Yes, graduate students,” Mr. Harrington said. “It’s something many of my students aim for later.”

“Usually graduates,” Tony said. “But I am thinking of creating a placement for someone younger.” He paused. “Or more than one student.”

Though the teacher seemed to miss it, Rhodey saw the flash of distaste on Tony’s face with the addition. He supposed he was less interested in setting something up for a bunch of high school students when there was only one he wanted to see. Rhodey thought an actual extended project to other students might be necessary to maintain the cover, though, little as Rhodey wanted to get to know a bunch of kids.

"That would be great," Mr. Harrington said. "We've got so much promising talent here that could learn so much from you and your team. Okay… who to start with…" His eyes roved the room, and he said, "I think—" but cut off as a kid approached them, his hand extended to Tony and a confident gleam in his eyes.

Tony looked at the kid, then took his hand and shook it.

“Well then, “Mr. Harrington said. “This is Eugene Thompson, one of our students.”

"Flash Thompson," the kid corrected. "And it's great to meet you, Mr. Stark."

Rhodey watched Tony’s face, wanting to see the difference in his expectations of Tony as he knew him to who he was now when faced with the confident kid. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was definitely not for anger to darken his eyes and for him to drop the kid’s hand like it was burned.

“Nice to meet you, Flash,” Rhodey said politely.

“Would you like to see my project?” Flash asked. “I’m working on upgrading a Roomba to play music as it works, changing track with each setting.”

Tony’s lip twitched. “I think someone’s ahead of you there, _Eugene_. I know another kid that already worked that out.” His eyes narrowed. “She’s five.”

The kid's mouth dropped open, and he gaped like a fish for a moment. Rhodey was curious to see how he'd recover—also to know what five-year-old girl Tony knew—but Tony was already looking away and asking the teacher, "Do you have something more original for us to see?"

Mr. Harrington looked a little amused. "Actually, I do. If you could go back to your station, Flash." His eyes scanned the room again, settling on Peter, who was carefully looking down at something on his table, not staring like his friend and so many others in the room. "Yes. Peter has something special to show."

Tony's smile grew, and his eyes shone as Mr. Harrington led them to Peter's table. Rhodey could tell Tony was struggling not to stride ahead, to get there faster, but he was doing well. When this was over, Rhodey would be able to tell him he'd handled it like a pro, with minimal visible overreaction.

So far, at least.

Peter and his friend looked up as they approached, his friend’s mouth gaping and eyes wide, and Peter looked like a deer in headlights. It was actually kind of endearing to see him like that, knowing what he was going to be to Tony one day. Though Peter had no idea—he was reacting to meeting a superhero, or perhaps it was the genius side of Tony he admired—this was his first meeting with the man that was going to be like a father to him one day.

Rhodey realized then he had a privileged position to see this happen. He'd get to see Tony on this journey of meeting and building a bond with his son—though the bond was fully there on Tony's side already.

When they reached the boys, Tony’s hands twitched as if he wanted to reach for Peter, but he controlled the urge and merely smiled.

"Gentlemen, this is Peter Parker and Ned Leeds," Mr. Harrington said. "They're two of our most promising students. Peter, would you like to show Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes what you've made."

Peter’s friend, Ned, merely stared, but Peter snapped into life, eyes gleaming with excitement and hands a little shaky as he gestured to the table and said, “Yeah. I was working on a powered exoskeleton for a stroke victim who has weakness in one leg.”

Tony’s eyes widened, and he moved forward, seemingly automatically, to examine the contraption.

“My nanna,” Ned rasped, then snapped his mouth shut and blushed furiously.

"Yeah," Peter said. "Uh… Ned's grandmother had a stroke six months ago, and she's not been able to walk since because of her left leg. So I took a passive exoskeleton schematic, which was much cheaper to build that companies are charging for it. And that’s grossly unfair. I mean, they're basically penalizing a whole group of people because they can't afford the stuff they need to lead more independent lives. That's really messed up, right?" 

He blinked up at Tony, who was staring at him with a look of adoration in his eyes, which Rhodey hoped Peter missed. There was more than adoration there, though. Rhodey could see the pride brimming over, and he was obviously impressed by what he was seeing. He also seemed to have lost all power of speech, so Rhodey took up the reins for him.

“You’re right, Peter: it’s very unfair.”

He moved closer to the table and examined what Peter had made. It was crudely built, obviously lacking the materials which would have made it better, but the tech behind it was solid. Rhodey could see the concealed circuit board and the hydraulics he’d crafted out of what looked like small engine parts.

“This is really great, Peter,” he said. “You did this alone?”

Peter blushed and nodded. “I had help. Coding isn’t my thing, so Ned gave me a couple lessons.”

Ned, who had been basically nonverbal with awe, snapped to life at this point and said, "No! It was Peter! I hardly had to teach him anything. He's the one that found the way to make it work, because he didn't have schematics for the powered ones.

“I’m sure you were very helpful, Ned,” Tony said. “Is coding your thing?”

Ned looked like he was going to faint, and his head bobbed with a nod. “Uh… yes, sir. I know some, but Peter is good, too.”

Tony smiled at him, then turned back to Peter. "Have you done a test drive on this?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, sir. His grandmother's been using it for a week, ever since I finished it. It's not good enough yet, I need to finetune it, and it'd be better if I could thin the design to make it sleeker and less bulky, but she was walking, right, Ned?"

Ned nodded and licked his lips. “Uhuh. Yeah. She really loves Peter right now.”

“See, he’s brilliant,” Mr. Harrington said.

“You are,” Tony said, eyes on Peter. “This is incredible for your level of education.” He turned to encompass Ned in his words. “With a friend like this backing you up, you’ve got a great future ahead of you.”

Ned’s color grew even more, and he looked down, seeming unsteady on his feet. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to be working through something, his eyes distant and gleaming. Rhodey wondered what that was about, but he couldn't ask Tony if he had any insight until they were alone. 

Tony patted Peter’s shoulder and said, “Really, kid, this is great.”

Peter looked up at him, and Rhodey said that there was awe there. Not the same awe of seeing someone he loved as there was in Tony looking at him, but the awe of someone he admired seeing something admirable in him, too. Tony stared at him a moment and then seemed to snap back to himself, drop his hand, and clear his throat.

“Would you like to see some of our other student’s projects?” Mr. Harrington asked.

Rhodey knew Tony would rather stay here and talk to Peter until forced to leave his side, but that wasn’t fitting their cover of being there, so he said, “Yeah, we’d love that, right, Tony?”

Tony dragged his eyes from Peter and nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Mr. Harrington led them to the next table, talking about the potential of all his students, and Rhodey stayed in step at Tony’s side. Mr. Harrington asked if they would be willing to hand out the winner’s certificate and prize, and Rhodey agreed for them both as Tony was distracted again, probably leaving his thoughts behind with his son.

Mr. Harrington confided in a low voice that Peter’s project was getting first prize, and Tony smiled then. Rhodey guessed he was pleased at the thought of another reason to be close to his son and to talk to him.

Rhodey didn’t know how long Tony would be able to resist before creating the internship for Peter, if he would have the patience of at least building a pretense of seeing other students first. Still, he was willing to bet that Peter would be an official Stark Industries intern before the month was out. 

Personally, Rhodey couldn't wait. He wanted to have a chance to speak to Peter without his friend and teacher watching, to get to know the kid Tony loved and to see what else he was capable of. He would try working his schedule to give him as much time in New York as he could from here on out. Not only did the Avengers need him while they worked through the coming issues and threats, but he also wanted as much time with Peter as he could get. 

This kid was going to be his nephew one day, and Rhodey was impatient to build that relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… The (second) first meeting with Peter. I really enjoyed this scene, and I hope you do, too. I have limited time with Peter in arc one, which was tough, so I made the most of the moments we had. Let me know what you think.   
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday Update Day!  
> I’m excited to post this chapter as we’ve got some more Peter time. I’m curious about what you think of it as this is my first time really getting into Peter’s world in 2016 instead of what I am used to in 2023. If you enjoy it, let me know. If not, if you see flaws, let me know that, too—though kindly. I am in a position that I can edit things to improve still.

Tony pulled the car to a halt outside Peter's apartment building and looked out at the street. The very first time he'd come here, he'd been stressed about the situation with Steve, questioning his decision to bring Spider-Man into the fight, but driven by desperation. It was wholly different this time. He was about to see his kid again.

Last time, he’d already been following Spider-Man’s antics for a while, wondering about where his abilities came from and making schematics for how he could improve his suit—though anything would have been an improvement on the pajamas he was swinging around in. He’d had vague plans to reach out to him and arrange something, but he’d thought it would be in a controlled manner at the right time.

When the situation with Steve arose, he put time into tracking a name down for Spider-Man, and he'd been stunned to find he was a fourteen-year-old boy. He’d imagined him being in college, at least. That had almost made him falter in his plans to recruit him, but only almost. He'd told himself he would make sure the kid kept his distance, just webbing them up, out of harm's way, though that hadn’t happened.

Decided on his course, he’d then made this journey into Queens and arrived at the door of Spider-Man’s apartment and met his May Parker.

Tony regretted that he'd had so little time to get to know May, and he wished he'd given her more time after the Snap. It had been too hard, though; her expectation for him to make it right had weighed on him. He’d kept up to date with what she was doing through Happy. Then the awful news of her death had come, one of the few times he’d seen Happy cry, and he’d realized it was too late.

May Parker had been a great woman, and she'd helped to raise a fantastic kid. Now, preparing to face her again, Tony was a little nervous. This wouldn't be anywhere near as emotional as seeing Peter had been the week before, but it was still going to be tough.

He pushed open the main door, passed the elevator, which was out of order, and went up the stairs. The Parkers were on the fifth floor, and the walk gave him time to prepare himself.

He'd talked through this meeting with Pepper the night before, as they'd laid in bed together. Tony relished her presence again, even though it had only been technically a short time without her for him, given the time travel. She'd told him to go without expectations, to just be in the moment with May and Peter, and to enjoy what happened.

Tony felt he was ready to do that, prepared, as he knocked on Peter and May’s door and waited for it to be answered.

This was a different day to when he’d come here the first time around, on which he’d caught May baking on an afternoon off work, but he knew she was home today, too, as he’d checked her schedule with some simple hacking. Peter would be home from school within the hour, so Tony should have enough time with May to say what he needed before he arrived.

There was the sound of the lock disengaging, and May pulled open the door. There were only the slightest differences physically in May now to the woman he'd seen last, fewer stress-lines on the face and no weariness in her eyes. Her reaction was almost identical to the first time he'd met her, though. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped open, and then she snapped to life and said, “Mr. Stark?" in a tone that indicated she wasn't quite sure he was real.

"Call me Tony." He held out a hand, which she shook, propping the door open with her foot. "I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment."

She looked just as bewildered as she had the first time, no idea what Iron Man could want from her, but she was just as gracious, inviting him in and offering him coffee and some of the fruit cake she’d made.

Remembering the date loaf he'd endured last time, he said, "Thank you, but I had a late lunch, so I'm full. I'd love a coffee, though."

She led him into the living room, gestured him to a seat on the couch while she darted into the kitchen to fetch the coffee.

She clattered around in the kitchen, calling, "Cream or sugar?" both of which Tony refused, and then she came back with two mugs. One of them said, 'World's Best Aunt' in shaky letters, which made Tony think it was handmade by Peter, and the other was a white mug with the picture of his Iron Man mask on the side.

He wondered if it was a joke, which May was known to make, and then she caught him examining it and laughed.

“Sorry. It’s my nephew’s mug. I didn’t think.”

“It’s fine,” Tony said. “I like it. I don’t usually see much of my own merchandise in use.”

She sipped her coffee, set the mug down, then turned herself so she was facing him with her leg tucked under her. “So, how can I help you, Tony?”

“I’m here to talk about Peter,” he said. “I don’t know if he told you that I met him…”

She laughed. “Told me? He’s not stopped raving about it all week. I don’t know if you realized, but Peter is a huge fan of yours. He has been since he was a kid, even before the Iron Man thing started. He used to have your Time Magazine cover pinned to his bedroom wall.”

Tony felt warmth kindle in his chest—he’d never known that about his son.

“And it only got more intense with Iron Man,” she went on. “Then you actually saved his life, and the obsession grew and grew.”

“I saved his life?” Tony asked, bewildered.

She nodded, a hand settling at the base of her throat. “We took him to the Stark Expo as a treat for his great report card. We were there the first night, when you were there, and he enjoyed it so much we took him back. That was the night the Hammer Drones attacked.”

Tony’s free hand fisted as he remembered, and he set his mug down on the table. He had no idea Peter had been there. Damn, he could have been killed. Tony could have lost him before ever having a chance to know him.

“Me and Ben, my late husband, were separated from him in the chaos.” She shook her head, smiling ruefully. “Though it wasn’t just that; Peter slipped away from us intentionally. He was eight years old, helpless, but Ben had brought him this Iron Man helmet and toy gauntlet, and he thought he could use them to fight the drones.”

Icy horror slipped down Tony’s spine as he remembered, and his breath became hard to catch. He battled to control himself, calling on all his experience in dealing with panic attacks learned over the years in which his PTSD had been at its worst. He clearly wasn’t good enough, though, as May grew concerned. 

“Tony?” she said, hand settling on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, dug deep for calm, and drew a deep and shaky breath. “He was the kid that faced off with the drone,” he said.

She nodded. “That’s what he said happened. He was such a good kid, so brave, and he told us he thought he could stop them, to protect people. He was facing one of them, and I’m not sure what happened, but it sounded like the drone was about to kill him, then you arrived and blasted it before it could.”

“I remember,” Tony said, tone calmer now as the horror faded and his knowledge that Peter was okay in this time settled over him. “I remember that kid. Damn.”

“That was Peter,” she said fondly. “And the thing he was most excited about was that you’d spoken to him.”

“Nice work, kid,” Tony recited, the scene playing out in his mind like a video reel.

“That’s what you said. I think that was the proudest moment of his life until you showed up at his science fair. That blew everything else out of the water.”

Tony took a breath, centered himself, and got back on topic so he could have May primed before Peter got home. "That's why I'm here. As you can probably imagine, I see innovations from the brightest minds in the country—hell, the world—at Stark Industries. My people are the best, but what I saw from Peter was amazing for his age and level of education. I have done some work with powered exoskeletons myself, and I know how tough it is. The fact he was able to create that in a high school workshop is incredible.” He planted his hands on his knees and said, “I want to be a part of Peter’s education.”

She blinked, and her lips parted, but she didn't speak.

"Stark Industries has interns," he went on. "They're usually graduate students. In fact, we've never taken anyone younger than a college senior before, but Peter has so much potential. He's a genius."

She nodded slowly. "He really is; I mean, his IQ is genius level. He was tested in middle school. They wanted him to skip grades, but Ben and I wanted him to have as normal a childhood as possible. His teachers at Midtown talked about him testing into college, but… He's so young still.”

Tony nodded. "You made the right choice. I went to MIT when I was fifteen, and I wouldn't recommend that to anyone. I was a fish out of water there in everything except the classes. I was just too young to be in that environment."

She looked relieved that their choice was being reaffirmed. "That's what we thought," she said. "He's very mature for his age, he's needed to be with the things that have happened to him, but he's also innocent at the same time. He has this lightness that I don’t want him to lose.”

Tony understood what she was saying completely. He had seen that lightness for himself, even in the direst circumstances. On a far-off planet, preparing to face a foe that was far more powerful than them, Peter had been quipping about aliens planting eggs in this chest. And then, on his arrival on a battlefield that was unlike anything any of the Avengers had seen before, the odds stacked against them, he’d been filled with that eager energy as he’d reunited with Tony.

That lightness was part of what made him worthy, Tony believed, and he’d seen it snuffed out in Peter’s weeks of catatonia.

“Yes,” he said. “I only spoke to him for a few minutes, but I saw what you’re talking about. I would like to see that grow in him, as well as his experience and knowledge. There is a program Stark Industries funds called The September Foundation. We fund scholarships and give grants to students. We just approved funding to all MIT students to run their projects this year.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and he guessed she was tabulating the kind of cost of such a scheme.

“I want to give Peter an internship combined with that scheme. If you don’t mind me asking, how is his high school education funded?”

He already knew the answer; Peter had won a scholarship, as the school's fees were high, and May could never have afforded it otherwise. However, he didn't want her to think he'd been spying on her, even though that was precisely what he'd done.

“He has a scholarship through to senior year, as long as he keeps his grades up,” she said. “Which he does. Peter works really hard in school."

Tony nodded, knowing that already. "Then we can provide him with a scholarship for college. With the potential I believe Peter has and the funds we can commit, Peter has a chance to study anywhere in the country or even the world. That’s what I want to offer him.”

May clapped a hand to her chest. “That’s… It’s amazing. I know he’s thought about how we’re going to fund college, and the scholarships are even more competitive for the kinds of schools he’d be applying to. This would take away all that pressure, leaving him to concentrate on school and being a kid.”

Tony knew better. Peter could only concentrate on being a kid when he wasn’t concentrating on being a hero for Queens. However, that would be different this time. Without Thanos to fight on Titan, without Toomes, who Tony would deal with himself, Peter would not face that coming of age so young.

Peter would have more options for his life that didn’t involve fighting to save the world. He would never put that gauntlet on and snap, giving him immeasurable power but also taking away too much of his peace by placing responsibility for a universe on his shoulders and removing his mortality. 

“So, I have your permission to make the offer?” Tony asked.

She started to nod and then faltered. “What exactly would you want from him? I know you can offer him a lot, but Peter takes his responsibilities seriously. I don’t want him exhausting himself between his schoolwork and what you need him to do at this internship.”

Tony held up a hand. "I promise, I won't be putting pressure on him that he can't handle. Ideally, with your agreement, I would like him to come to the Avengers Tower twice a week, one weekday afternoon after school and another day at the weekend. He'd be working directly with me, so I'd have control of how much he does. I think that between you and I, we can make sure he finds time for all his commitments while also being a regular teenager."

 _While also swinging around the city as Spider-Man,_ he amended mentally. 

May considered, working through what he had said carefully, as she was programmed to do when it came to the wellbeing of her nephew.

“I think you’re offering him something amazing,” she said. “And I know this could do wonders for Peter’s future. Honestly, I worry I can’t do enough for him. He’s far ahead of me intellectually, and I can’t keep up with him. My husband was more scientifically inclined academically, and he could help Peter, but I am at a loss a lot of the time. I think you provide for him in ways that have nothing to do with finances.”

“I will do whatever I can,” Tony said, his voice full of sincerity.

“Then you have my total support to offer this internship. If Peter wants it, and I can almost guarantee he will, I’ll do whatever I need to make it happen.”

“Thank you, May,” he said, slipping into familiarity with her first name without thought. “Believe me, the chance to do this for Peter does just as much for me as it will him.”

She looked a little puzzled, and he realized he’d been a little too emphatic for his cover, but before she could say anything, he heard the door open in the hall and Peter’s voice calling, “Hey, May. You home?”

“In here,” May called.

Footsteps approached, and Peter said, "Did you see, there's this crazy car outside. Looks real…" He appeared in the doorway, and his mouth dropped open. "Oh."

“We’ve got a guest,” May said.

Peter nodded slowly. “I… uh… see.”

“Mr. Parker, good to see you again,” Tony said, getting to his feet and extending a hand.

Peter snapped to life, circling the back of the couch, and coming to shake Tony’s hand. Tony felt the slight tremor of Peter’s grip, and he had to remind himself that this was not his son, not yet, so the nerves were to be expected.

“Mr. Stark came with an offer for you,” May said.

Peter’s eyes moved between them. “He did?”

Tony nodded and sat down again. Peter stood immobile for a moment, apparently Tony's presence in his home was more shocking than it had been in the school, then he dropped onto the battered armchair.

“What do you know about the September Foundation, Peter?” Tony asked.

Peter smiled eagerly. “I saw on the blogs that you’ve funded all MIT projects this year, which is, yeah, amazing. I can’t wait to see what comes out of it. I heard one group were doing a study on—” He snapped his mouth closed and blushed, then said, voice a little calmer, “I know it’s a scholarship and funding program for academics.”

“That it is,” Tony said. “And what do you know about the Stark Industries internship program?”

Peter ran a hand through his hair. “I know it’s crazy competitive, and it’s basically every STEM graduate's dream to get one. I heard you only take the very best, and an internship basically gets you a job in any tech company you want after a year with you.”

“Correct again,” Tony said. “Now, here’s the question, what would you say if I offered you an internship?”

Peter blinked. “Uh… Mr. Stark, I’m fourteen.”

Tony chuckled. “I know, but I think you’ve got a lot of potential, and I’ve seen more technical capabilities in you than some of my interns.”

Peter blushed furiously and ducked his head. Tony thought he might be being a little too overzealous in his offer. Just because he knew all this to be true, the knowledge came from the experience of an additional two years knowing Peter. He had to tone it down if Peter and May weren't going to get suspicious. In fact, he was going to need to make an admission. 

“I’ll be honest, Peter, I looked into you a little more after meeting you. I uncovered your high school transcripts and saw your teachers' notes on your report cards. A mind like yours needs to be challenged and stimulated. I think I can do that for you. You interested?”

Peter’s head bobbed with an eager nod. “Yeah! Totally! I mean, yes, Mr. Stark. I am more than interested.”

Tony grinned, excitement rushing through him. "Great. I've already gone over the details with your aunt, and she's given the go-ahead for me to make this offer. I want to make you _my_ intern, working with me personally in my lab. I want to teach you what I know and develop the potential I can see in you.”

Peter mouthed wordlessly, his hands fluttering nervously in his lap.

“I can’t pay you officially as an intern, but I can give you a scholarship through The September Foundation for college – right through to the end of whatever education you want. I mean it, kid, I'll fund you through as many Ph.D.'s as Bruce Banner has if that's what you want."

Peter gaped, and his hand came to his chest, fingers trembling. Tony stared a moment and then looked away as he realized Peter was overwhelmed and should have space to feel.

He’d not realized, or perhaps he’d been blinded to it by love, the kind of offer he was making for Peter. His son was brilliant, and he could easily match Bruce for Ph.D.'s if he chose to. But that was unlikely to happen if he didn't have this funding. There were only so many scholarships out there.

To Peter, Tony was offering him the world.

It was a good balance, though, as having this time with Peter was going to make Tony's world, too. He missed Morgan so much, and he yearned to be able to see her, but that was always going to be there until he was back with her. In balance to that loss was this time with Peter, this do-over, and he would be able to serve both himself and Peter with it. He could give Peter the future he deserved, and he could find a place on his journey at his side if that was what Peter wanted. Even if he couldn't have all he wished for, he would have something, he knew.

“Peter?” May said tentatively.

Peter nodded jerkily, fingers clutching the front of his shirt. "Yeah. That would be amazing, Mr. Stark. And I promise to work really hard."

“I know you will,” Tony said, the fondness of remembering in his voice.

May got to her feet and moved to perch on the arm of Peter’s chair. She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.

“I’m so happy for you, honey,” she said. “You deserve this.”

Peter smiled slightly but was wordless. Tony watched him for a moment, an urge to reach for him and envelop him in his arms rushing through him, and he realized he needed to leave before he took a step too far.

“I should get going,” he said, rising to his feet.” I’ll have a car pick you up from here at nine-am Saturday, which will bring you to the Tower.”

Peter nodded and jumped to his feet to shake Tony’s hand when offered.

May patted Peter’s back and saw Tony to the door. “You probably don’t realize, but you’ve just given him the world,” she said quietly.

"He's a good kid with great potential," Tony said. "I'm not being entirely selfless with this. I want to see what he's capable of, to have a part in developing it. As for the scholarship, that's just money."

A strange smile curled May’s lips, it was almost sympathetic, and she said, “Perhaps.”

Tony thanked her once more and then headed to the stairs, hearing her clicking the door closed behind him. He went down one floor, then stopped and took a breath.

"That went well, Stark," he said aloud. "You controlled yourself."

He had, and that had been the toughest part. From here on out, he’d be building something with Peter, creating a bond. It was going to take a while, months if not years, before Peter would be his son again, but he could wait. 

For Peter, he could be patient. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Tony took the first step. It’s a huge challenge to write Peter in this story as he’s not the character I’ve been writing for months. He’s younger, he’s not got the confidence he built over the series, and he’s not got the bond with Tony that I love to write. I get to build it, though, which is something that attracted me most to this story.   
> WARNING: I’m putting this note at the bottom so you’ll hopefully read it after you’re caught up on the chapter. I did put a note in before, but you might have missed it. This story is taking a slightly darker turn where I’m writing now. It’s necessary and not much darker than With Great Power, but I thought you should be warned. We also have a character death. It’s not Peter and it’s not an Avenger, but it is a character I’m fond of and am sure you are, too. If you need to know who it is before continuing to read, my email address is on my profile, so drop me a message.   
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! The weekend is here so let’s kick it off with an update.  
> We’ve got some solid Tony/Peter time in this chapter, and some Rhodey at the end as a bonus. I hope you enjoy xxx

“Just there, Hap,” Tony said. “It’s the one with the white door.”

Happy pulled the car to a stop and looked sideways at him. “There you go. I’ve driven you into the middle of nowhere so you can pick up whatever’s so special. You going to answer my questions now?”

“First of all, it’s Queens, not the middle of nowhere. Second, what we’re picking up is very special. Third, nope, he’s waiting for me.”

“Who’s waiting for you?” Happy asked.

Tony waved a hand, slipped on his sunglasses, and got out of the car. He opened the door, walked past the broken elevator, and up the stairs to the Parkers’ apartment. He knocked twice, then stepped back and ran his hands through his hair, unusually nervous.

He was about to see his son again, he had a full day to spend with him in the tower, and he could not wait.

The door opened, and May Parker appeared. It was strange still, even though he had seen her only a few days before, to see her alive. Her death had affected him—and his son when he’d returned—but here she was, so full of life.

He knew Peter had offered to save her and Ben from their fated deaths, and they’d both refused. Though he’d tried to hide it, Tony knew that had been hard for Peter to accept. He went to see them often, more often than he told them Tony thought.

“Tony,” she said, eyes bright. “Good to see you again. Come in. Peter is just getting ready.”

He walked past her into the living room and took the indicated seat as she called, “Peter, your ride is here. Hurry up.”

Peter hopped into sight, one sneaker on his foot and the other in his hand, which he was trying to put it on while wobbling like a drunk flamingo. He dropped his shoe and straightened up.

“Mr. Stark!” he said, color flushing his cheeks. “I didn’t know you were coming. I thought you said you were sending a car. I’m not ready—I must have lost track of time. I’m really sorry. I’ll just be a minute.” He picked up his shoe, tried to balance on one foot, tilted to the side, then sat down on the floor and yanked it on.

“You’re not late,” Tony said. “I’m early. And I did send a car; I just happened to be in it” May laughed, as Peter stared in puzzlement a moment, then bent to tie his laces, then jumped to his feet, cheeks still blazing, and said, "I'm ready?" He formed it as a question.

“I’d say you are,” Tony said, standing.

“Wait!” May said. “Where’s your bag, Peter? And you need to take your lunch.”

"It's in my room. I'll grab it." He darted away, and May picked up a paper sack from the table.

“You don’t need to send lunch,” he said. “We’ll feed him.”

“That’s very kind,” she said. “But you don’t need to do that. You’re already doing enough for him. This internship is… I can’t thank you enough. He’s so excited about it; it’s all he’s talked about since you came. Honestly, he’s been driving me a little crazy.”

Tony chuckled. If you were to ask Pepper and Rhodey, they’d say Tony had been driving them crazy talking about it, too. With the prospect of a whole day with Peter ahead of him, he couldn’t quite settle to anything. The past days had been hard to get through; only the pressing political and tactical concerns had held his attention away from what he planned to do with Peter.

Peter came out, rucksack slung over his shoulder, and his cheeks a little less flushed now. May handed him his lunch, which he tucked away in his bag, accepted her hug and kiss, and promised to, _“Be good and not get in Mr. Stark’s way.”_

May patted Peter’s cheek, thanked Tony once more, and then saw them to the door.

“I’m sorry about the elevator, Mr. Stark,” Peter said as they walked down the stairs. “I thought I could fix it myself, I researched how to do it, but May won’t let me try. She said I might mess something up and send Mrs. Donahue careening to her death when she goes out to buy her scratchers and cat food.”

Tony snorted. “Probably better not to try then, kid.”

Though he wondered if there was something he could do, perhaps a nudge to the building's manager so May didn't have to walk up all the stairs at the end of a long shift at the hospital. She had to be tired, and if he could make things a little easier for her, he would.

They got outside, and Peter came to a dead stop, taking in the sleek black Audi which Happy was standing beside, arms crossed over his chest and incredulous eyes on Peter.

“Peter, this is Happy,” Tony introduced. “Hap, Peter Parker. He’s my new intern.”

Happy looked between him, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion, but Peter was smiling. He walked towards Happy, held out a hand, and said, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Happy.”

Happy stared at his hand, looked back at Tony, who gave him a small nod, then ignored Peter's hand and said, "Get in."

Peter nodded eagerly. “Sure, Mr. Happy.”

“You can just call him Happy, kid,” Tony said.

“No, he can’t,” Happy grumbled, opening the car door.

Peter's face fell, and he climbed into the backseat.

Tony made to follow him into the car, but Happy stepped in front of him and slammed the car door. “Boss, what’s going on.”

“I told you—he’s my new intern.”

“No, he’s a kid. How old is he, twelve?”

“Fourteen.”

Happy seemed no more appeased by that. “Fourteen then. What exactly do you want from a kid? Is this some kind of experiment? I know your usual interns, and they're not kids. You take them out of graduate school—college if they're brilliant. You’ve never taken a kid out of high school.” He frowned. “Is this your way of making things work with Pepper? Because that's not fair on the kid, Boss."

Tony was torn between offense and amusement. Sure, it hurt that Happy would think he’d use a child to improve his love life, but he supposed it was a fair assumption for this point in his life. The amusement came from the fact Peter had moved Happy into protectiveness already, even though Happy had refused to show any form of friendliness to him.

He wondered if they would bond any faster this time without Happy playing sole point-man for Peter.

“I am not using the kid, Hap. He’s going to be my intern, even though he’s a little young, and you’re going to see a lot of him. Taking care of him is your responsibility as well as mine.”

Happy scowled. “My responsibility? I thought you wanted a ride today to spend some time together. I’m Head of Security now! Not just your driver.”

“I did want to spend time together! Tony placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “I’ll explain, Hap, but it’s a long story, and I can’t do it now. He’s waiting. Let’s go.”

He opened the door and climbed into the car beside Peter, who had slid to the opposite side and was twisting the hem of his hoodie in his fingers. For a moment, Tony remembered Peter's too-thin fingers stroking over the blankets Bucky placed on his lap, the sensation which became a thought to him in the dark days of his catatonia.

“You okay, kid?” he asked as Happy started the engine and steered them away from the sidewalk and into the flow of traffic.

Peter nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just excited.”

Tony was sure that wasn’t it; he knew Peter’s moods and expressions, and this was not excitement. 

“Or you can try the truth,” he suggested. 

Peter blushed and bit his lip. Tony had forgotten this facet of him. He was so used to the confident Peter he'd lived with since he went on his travels with the Stones, the Peter who rambled through his days with happiness and excitement, even when dreaming of his own death, with one notable exception—Morgan's diagnosed Peter Day.

“I… uh…” He ran a hand over his face. “I’ve got really good hearing, Mr. Stark, so I could hear what Mr. Happy was saying. I guess I had the same question. Why am I your intern? If this is something to do with Miss. Potts, I get it. I mean, she’s amazing. She’s like a feminist icon for my friend Michelle, and she’s beautiful, and you looked really happy together in all the pictures I saw in May’s magazines. If you think I can help with that, I don’t mind, really. It would make sense because I am too young to be an intern—”

Tony placed a hand over his mouth, and Peter’s eyes bugged.

Tony lowered his hand and held up a finger as an instruction to let him speak. Peter nodded and drew in a long breath, then held it.

"There's a couple reasons I want you as my intern. "One, you’re brilliant. I saw what you’re capable of when I came by your science fair, and yeah, I violated your privacy by looking at your school transcripts. Kid, you could have tested into college at the beginning of the year, no question.”

“May and Ben didn’t want me to skip grades,” he said. “The teachers wanted me to jump from fifth grade to seventh, but they thought I should have a normal education experience.”

“Yeah, your aunt told me. They were right,” Tony said. “I went to MIT when I was about your age, and as good as it was to be challenged academically, it screwed me up in every other way—I wouldn’t have survived it without Rhodey. You deserve better than that. That's not my point, though. My point is that you're brilliant, intelligent, and inventive, and I want to see that grow with the right opportunities and mentorship. That's something I can offer. That is my _prime_ motivation in doing this—cherishing your gifts. The second reason is that I’m selfish. I’m drawn to genius. I don’t find minds like yours often, and never in someone so young. I get to help you build that, teach you, and that’s what I call a good time.”

Peter looked disbelieving, but he licked his lips, nodded, and said, “Thank you, Mr. Stark. I’m not ungrateful, no matter why you’re doing it. Believe me, I know what you’re offering me is huge and amazing, and I’m really lucky.”

Tony leaned back in his seat and smiled. “Yeah, you are, kid.” 

He was lying, though. He was hyperaware that he was the lucky one in this situation.

Though it was not his intention, Peter had given him an amazing chance to redo these two years with him before Thanos came, and he was going to make the most of all of his time with his kid.

xXx

When they got to the Tower, Tony led Peter into the private elevator and positioned him in front of the mirrored wall.

“Friday, this is Peter Parker,” he said. “I want you to get his biometrics to create security access for him. He gets a free-range pass.”

“Yes, Boss,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter Parker. Please hold your hands up in front of you and keep still.”

Peter flinched at the voice and then held up his hands and froze as a red light swept from the ceiling, over him from head to toe.

“That’s Friday,” Tony explained. “She’s the AI interface to the tower and my suit.”

“Biometrics collected,” she announced. “And palm imprint added to security scanners for the lab and penthouse. All other access will come from my biometrics testing, though I suggest you inform Mr. Hogan that Peter will need a security pass. You knew he likes people to be identifiable.” There was a pronounced smirk in her disembodied voice.

“Send Happy a message for me, Fri," he said. "Peter gets Alpha Clearance. And take us up to the lab."

“Alpha?” Peter said. “That sounds kinda… I don’t know. Are you sure that’s right?”

“I’m always sure,” Tony said. “You need this clearance. I know you’re not going to abuse it, and you probably don’t want to wander too much at first until people have gotten used to seeing you around anyway. One day I’m going to get you exploring in R&D, though, see what you come up with for us. Don’t worry, I’m not getting free child labor out of you. If you invent something good, you’ll be on the patent and get the profits.”

Peter's mouth dropped open, and his eyes bugged. Enjoying his reaction, Tony grinned.

“This is too much,” Peter said. “Really, Mr. Stark, even if I did manage to make something, it’s with Stark Industries time and tools. It’s probably illegal for me to take credit.”

Tony squeezed his shoulder. “Kid, I know what I’m talking about. You’re not going to get in trouble for using that brain of yours here. You’re brilliant, and I am going to make the most of that.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and then startled as the elevator came to a stop, and Friday announced, "Level eighty-three."

"Through here," Tony said, leading Peter out and down the hall to his personal lab. Friday unlocked the door for him without waiting for his palm imprint, as usual, and he gestured Peter in.

Peter stopped just inside, and his eyes roved the room, taking it all in with a look of awe. Against one wall were the latest Iron Man suits, ranged by stage of invention. The bank of holograms displayed Tony’s specifications for the Mark XLVII.

Tony wanted to jump ahead to nanotech, but he’d not yet got the Wakanda connection to gather the required materials. The tables were strewn with tools and parts he’d been using. He had spent an hour preparing the space for this visit, tidying the scraps of paper, and trashing the takeout containers, spreading out the best self-invented tools, wanting Peter to get the full impact of what he could do here.

“Wow…” Peter breathed. “It’s like Willy Wonka’s Factory.”

Tony chuckled as he remembered how he’d used the same words to describe Peter’s own workshop at the compound.

“No, it’s even better than that,” Peter went on. “So much better. It’s like… Wow.”

Tony grinned. “Yep, it’s wow, and you get to explore it all. Where do you want to start?”

Peter's smile grew, and he said, "I don't know. I can't decide. Can I look at the suits?"

“You can,” Tony said. “You can take selfies with them, too, if you like. I know your friends will get a kick out of it.”

His friends, Ned and Michelle—who would one day become MJ to him. MJ would probably use the opportunity for a tirade on capitalism and conspicuous consumption, but Ned’s head would explode.

Tony had never had a chance to meet either of them last time, though he felt like he knew them from everything Peter had told him. He'd seen Ned at the science fair, of course, but he planned to spend actual time with them this time around. Not yet, it would be way too suspicious for him to invite Peter’s friends over now, but one day… Maybe Peter’s next birthday. He could throw him a party. No, that was only two months away. Maybe for his sixteenth. They could make it a real event. Peter would like that, wouldn’t he?

Peter moved over to the Mark IX War Machine armor on one of the tables, the armor that Rhodey would have worn in Berlin for that battle, the suit that would have been damaged, sending Rhodey spiraling to the ground. That wouldn’t happen, though. They’d changed that course of action. They’d all agreed to stand against the Accords together, to change them to something workable. There would be no Berlin, no Siberia, there would be no betrayal.

Tony opened his mouth to invite Peter to see the specs of the suit's new features, but the door behind them slid open then, and Pepper strode in. She had her eyes on the files in her hands, and her brow furrowed. "Tony, I need you to sign…" She looked up, seeing Tony's broad smile and Peter's open-mouthed gaze on her. "Oh. Hello?"

“Pepper, this is Peter Parker, my new intern,” he said. “My _personal_ intern. Peter, this is Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and general superhero.”

Peter waved awkwardly and said, “Nice to meet you, Miss Potts.”

“You too, Peter,” she replied with a gentle smile. “Tony, can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Tony said easily. “Kid, go nuts. I’ll be back in a minute. Friday, initiate Silent Night protocol.”

“Done, Boss.”

Pepper jerked her head towards the door, and Tony followed her out and closed the door behind him. With the Silent Night protocol in place, the workshop was soundproofed, so Peter couldn't hear what might be said concerning time travel.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

“It’s going amazing,” Tony said effusively. “He’s amazing.”

She looked through the window at Peter, who was examining the left foot thruster of Rhodey's suit. "He really is cute, and he looks like he’s having fun.”

“I think he is.” Tony glanced back at Peter, smiling fondly. “I know I am.”

She narrowed her eyes, looking at Peter, who was examining the gauntlet of Rhodey’s armor.

“Is that safe?” she asked.

“It’s not hooked up to its power core. He’s perfectly safe. Really, Pep, I would _never_ endanger him like that. He’s way too important to me. I know you can’t understand that yet, not really, but that kid in there is my son. I love him. You’ll feel the same when you have a chance to get to know him.”

He believed that would happen. In 2023, Pepper was wholly focused on Morgan, protecting her from the pain that sometimes came with loving Peter, and she'd not been able to get to know him properly. They had time now in which Pepper had different priorities, and he was sure that, given a chance, Pepper would love Peter, too.

Pepper smiled slightly. "Okay. Sign these papers, and I'll leave you both to play."

Tony took the files, scrawled his signature at the places she’d marked with colored stickers, and handed them back.

“Thank you, Miss Potts,” he quipped.

She smiled fondly. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

She walked into the elevator, and Tony opened the door to the lab and went back inside to where Peter was bent over with his nose pressed to the elbow of Rhodey's suit.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Tony asked, then grinned. “Were you sniffing the War Machine armor?”

Peter jolted upright. “No! I, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just trying to see the connection to the joint. I wanted to see if I could tell how you maintained the integrity of strength with the freedom of movement."

“Did you work it out?” Tony asked.

“I have theories.”

Tony grinned. “Then let’s open up the schematics and see if you’re right. If you are, you get to pick where we order lunch from.”

“I’ve got lunch, Mr. Stark,” he said. “May sent me with a sandwich.”

“She did,” Tony said. “And you can eat that if you like, but I'm getting pizza, and you're invited to join me."

Peter smiled. “Pizza sounds great.”

Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “Great. Now, those schematics… Friday, pull them up…”

The hologram appeared, flooding Peter’s excited face with light, and Tony just stared at him for a moment, relishing his presence and filled with love.

He felt like he’d waited forever for this.

xXx

When Tony and Peter headed up to the penthouse for lunch, Tony was surprised to see Rhodey sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He looked up and beamed at them when they entered, and Tony felt himself smiling in return.

He’d been looking forward to this day, being with Peter, and the last couple days between seeing him at the apartment and picking him up for their first day together had been some of the longest he’d ever experienced. He expected to have the day alone with Peter, selfishly excited about it, but he didn’t feel a pang of annoyance that Rhodey was there, as he wanted to share Peter with his best friend.

He knew how much Rhodey loved Peter in the future and how much Peter loved him in return. Neither of them had that connection now, and it would take time to develop, but he was pleased that he could see it start.

Peter looked startled to see Rhodey, and he stopped dead a moment then said, “Colonel Rhodes. Hi.”

“Make it Rhodey, please,” he replied. “When people call me Colonel, I feel like I’ve got to start throwing up a salute.”

Peter chuckled. “Okay… Rhodey.”

Tony remembered the first time Peter was asked to call him Rhodey, and how quickly he’d corrected, and how he’d later said Tony had remained Mr. Stark for so long as he was scarier. Tony had hated that, even though Peter had said he wasn’t scary anymore.

He wondered if he was now. If he was, how could he fix it? He wanted Peter to be comfortable with him, but it had taken two years of knowing him—followed by five years of mourning him—for Peter to call him Tony.

“You hungry, Rhodey?” Tony asked. “Me and Pete are getting pizza.”

Rhodey nodded. “Why do you think I managed to get myself a weekend off to come into New York if not for the pizza.”

Peter laughed. “Is it really better? I’ve never had pizza from anywhere else.”

“Well, Chicago pizza is famous for a reason,” Rhodey started.

Tony cut him off with a hand raised and said, “New York pizza is the best. Chicago is a loaf of bread with cheese and tomato sauce on top.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes and walked towards them. “Ignore him, Peter. He’s a pizza snob. I’ll fly you to Chicago one day so you can try it.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“And when I say fly, I mean, _I’ll_ fly you,” Rhodey went on. “Sure, Tony is fancy and all with his private jets, but he’s got nothing on the wings I can get you on.”

“Alright, Rhodes,” Tony said. “Quit showing off. What do you want on your pizza?”

“Usual,” Rhodey said easily.

“Friday, add Rhodey’s pepperoni to the order. I want Swiss chard, sausage, and mozzarella. Peter, what do you like?”

“I… uh… can I get bacon and pickles?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “If you’ve got no tastebuds, you absolutely can.”

He knew Peter’s love of pickles and didn’t understand it. They were slimy, tangy things that he hated. Still, if that was what Peter wanted, it’s what he’d get him.”

“I have tastebuds,” Peter said, cheeks a little flushed. “Bacon and pickles is great.”

“I’m with Tone on this one,” Rhodey said. “It sounds gross. But if it’s what you like, more power to you, I guess.”

Peter smiled, the color fading from his cheeks.

“Got the order down, Friday?” Tony asked.

“I have the order, Boss. Is there anything you’d like to add?”

“Yeah, a pint of cookie dough and some garlic dough balls.”

“Now, you’re talking,” Rhodey said, rubbing his stomach. “You like dough balls, Peter?”

Peter grinned. “Love it. My aunt is Italian, and she’s not a great cook, but the amount of garlic she cooks with makes most things edible.”

“Sounds like Tony,” Rhodey said.

“It sounded like me,” Tony corrected. “I can cook now, Rhodey—you just haven’t had a chance to enjoy it yet.”

Rhodey’s brow pinched, and then his eyes widened, and he nodded. “Yeah, forgot about that.”

Rhodey had no idea Tony could cook as he didn't live through the years in which Tony had learned. He knew nothing about the house by the lake Tony had built for his wife and child, which was the best home he'd ever known. He knew none of that because he hadn't shared that place and those experiences, and Tony couldn't tell him in front of Peter.

And Morgan, Tony could talk to no one but Steve, Bucky, and Natasha about how much he missed her. The only thing that kept him from despairing with his longing for her was the knowledge that this was for Peter and that he would have her one day. In the meantime, he had this chance to know his son all over again.

They sat down on the couch, Peter sitting on his hands and looking anxious. Tony wished he knew the words to make him relax and feel comfortable here, but he was at a loss. This was not yet the Peter he knew well.

“What did you two spend your morning doing?” Rhodey asked.

Peter brightened, his hands coming up to gesture expansively as he spoke. “We looked at your armor. Mr. Stark showed me the schematics of how you maintain movement with power. It’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it. I had my theories, but they were way off base.”

“Not way off,” Tony corrected. “You were just thinking small, Pete. That's understandable and exciting for me as it means I have lots to teach you still."

Peter nodded, beaming. “Yeah.”

Rhodey watched Peter a moment, and Tony was sure he was trying to reconcile all he knew about what Peter would be at sixteen-years-old compared to what he was now at only fourteen. Tony marveled at the difference, too. It was like he was a completely different person sometimes, and then he would see a glimpse of him and feel a rush of happiness and what he was going to have—hopefully, soon.

Rhodey asked Peter a question about school, and Tony listened to them talk. It was good to see his best friend bonding with his son, and he would enjoy seeing it happen all over again.

As jealously as he guarded his time with Peter, it was easiest to share with Rhodey as he knew what they would be one day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Was that fun? I enjoyed writing this, challenging as it was. These moments between Peter and Tony are precious to me, and I can’t wait until we reach the point of the story in which I can feature them prominently. The Rhodey time was a late addition. I realized, after getting your feedback for the science fair chapter, that I’d neglected Rhodey. I gave so much time with Peter, Tony, Steve, and Bucky, that I missed out on building other bonds. I’m working through the story again now to include more time with them.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Ross was led into the conference room by Maria Hill. Swinging from his hand was his briefcase with his copy of the Accords. Each of the Avengers had a copy delivered the day before. It had been intentionally late last time, not giving them enough time to read and analyze them, but this time he just didn't care. They would sign, or they would not. It made no difference to him. His target was not the Avengers this time—it was the Asset. He was the prize at the end of this race, and Ross was going to win.

He and Ego combined, Nemesis, were going to snatch the Stones out from under his unworthy hands, and then they would rule. That was the only outcome Ross was willing to accept. Not only would he be more powerful than he could ever have imagined, but he would also be meting out his revenge for what the Asset had done to him. He had trapped him on that godforsaken planet, and Ross was going to tear everything away from him. Ego said he could kill him at the end. Once the Stones were out of his reach, there was no use for him, and he would no longer be protected. 

Ross thought perhaps he would trap him on that planet instead, at least for a while, maybe leave the Avengers with him. The idea of Tony Stark coating himself in goat dung was appealing.

Hill pushed open the door to the conference room, and Ross strode in, head held high and smile fixed in place.

The Avengers were all seated around the table. Stark was with Rogers and Romanoff. Colonel Rhodes with them. Opposite was Maximoff, the creation Vision, Wilson, and Barton. Though Barton had chosen retirement last time and had not even been at this meeting, Ross thought Stark had summoned him here to have a part of whatever he'd planned with his additional seven years' insight. 

_‘It’s more than him,’_ Ego said. _‘The Black Widow and Captain America are out of their time, too.’_

Ross would have liked to speak to her, to find out what that meant for their plan, but he couldn't with them all watching him. Instead, he had to play his part as Secretary of State and propose the Accords. In truth, he liked the idea of them all refusing to sign and retiring. There was no threat coming for two years that they would be needed for, and even then, their presence was incidental until the Battle of Earth. They would be there because they had been there.

“Secretary Ross,” Stark said. His tone was carefully controlled, but his eyes blazed. Ross could see the hated in them, the fury of memory.

Ross found a particular amusement in his hatred and careful control. It must be killing him to be polite and accommodating to Ross when he knew what he had put the Asset through in the future. Stark clearly loved the child, saw himself as his father. Ross wondered what it would do to him when he saw Ross break him down and make him a travesty of the goodness and innocence, the worthy being that had seized the Stones.

It would destroy him, wouldn’t it? Ross hoped so. He would like to see Stark defeated.

“Stark,” he said. “I am assuming you’ve primed your teammates on why I am here.”

Stark nodded. “Yes, so there’s no need for your sales pitch. We’ve all agreed on what we’re doing.”

“Perhaps you have,” Ross said. “But that will not stop me having my say. You all need to see and hear the consequences of what will happen if you refuse, as I assume you’re primed to.”

He set his briefcase down on the long table, popped the locks, and took out his copy of the Accords. He dropped it down onto the table with a thud, all eyes following its landing.

Ross placed his hands on the table and leaned forwards, feeling even more pleasure in this moment than he had the last time. “For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and _no_ supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” He patted the thick tome of Accords. “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries. It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

He looked to Rogers, wondering if he would raise the same objections as he had last time, but he merely straightened his shoulders and stared back, his face a neutral mask. Ross wondered if he had more control over his emotions than Stark or if he did not care for the Asset. He knew what Ross had done to him, a member of his team. Perhaps Rogers saw the Asset as the menace he was the same way Ross did.

Stark crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re not signing.”

“Do you speak for everyone, Mr. Stark?” Ross asked.

“No,” Maximoff said. “We speak for ourselves. We have all agreed not to sign until they can be adjusted.”

Ross smirked. So this was their game plan, to change them to their liking. That was possible, as Stark had been working with the panel to adjust them before Thanos came, and perhaps they would be able to this time.

It didn't matter to Ross. He didn't care if the Avengers were retired or imprisoned. When it mattered, they would fight. Perhaps if they retired, it would be easier to break the Asset, as they would not be able to join him against the threat Ross was posed to unleash upon him. Perhaps they would do it anyway. If they did, Ross would leave it to the panel to punish them. He had greater concerns. 

He had to play his part, though, so he straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. "The Accords are non-negotiable. You either sign, or you do not. If you do not, you will retire or face prosecution.”

“Prosecution like imprisonment without trial?” Barton said. “That’s a hard no from me.” He raised his hands. “I’ve done enough for the world. If we’re being punished for that, shackled with these Accords, I’ll retire. It’s probably past time anyway.”

“We all will,” Romanoff said. “But each and every country that is pushing these Accords are going to regret it. If a threat comes, who will fight it if not us?”

Ross bit down on his tongue to keep himself from smiling. She knew as well as he did that the threat would come and that they would face it. This was merely an act.

“We will find a way,” Ross said.

Wilson shrugged. "Then you do that. Hell, I don't mind retiring. The superhero life was never for me anyway. I can go back to work with veterans; I was better at that anyway."

“And I think I’ll build myself a farm,” Barton said. “Somewhere out of the way.”

Ross bit down on his tongue again. He knew Barton already had that farm and a family, which he had managed to keep secret for too long. It had all come out after the Snap, and Ross had been annoyed that Fury had kept them from his notice for so long. Still, Barton could have his home and family for the next two years. He would lose them all soon enough, anyway.

“You are all in agreement?” Ross asked. “None of you are going to sign?”

Rhodes shifted uncomfortably but nodded and spoke his refusal with the others. Stark, Rogers, and Romanoff had managed to create a united front against Ross. It would have annoyed him before, but now he merely found it amusing. They could refuse, make their alterations, but they were going to lose in the end.

He gave a curt nod, playing his part to perfection, and said, “Then I think I’ve said all I need to say. I will pass on your decision to the United Nations. There will be a ceremony to ratify the Accords in three days in Vienna. I advise you to refrain from your previous activities even before then, though. You wouldn’t want to invite future issues, would you.”

“Got it,” Stark said. “Retirement from here on out.”

Ross smirked. “I wonder, Stark, how long will that last for you? We all know what a volatile personality you have and how you like to show off. You do understand that you cannot use your suits from here on out, don’t you?”

Stark nodded. “I understand perfectly.”

Ross nodded curtly and snapped his briefcase closed. He turned and walked away from them, back through the door, then stopped and turned when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Is there something you want, Stark?” he asked, seeing who was following him.

“Yes,” Stark said. “I want to see you out of our home. You’re not welcome here anymore. This property belongs to the Avengers.”

“If you say so,” Ross said. “Though will you still call yourselves the Avengers in your retirement?”

Stark nodded. “It’s temporary. The UN will see they need us, and the changes will be made. However, I’ll be in Vienna with you, Ross, just to show my face when you shackle us. We all will.”

Ross frowned a moment, and then he realized what Stark was saying. Of course, Stark wanted to be there. He thought Barnes was going to be framed for the bombing, and they would want to be there to stop it.

That was a wasted journey, though, as there would be no bomb. Zemo was already working for Ross. It would do no harm to have them there, though. Perhaps it would interest them to see the chain of time’s rules lock like a noose around T’Chaka’s throat. Ross didn’t know how it would happen, heart attack or stroke perhaps. However it happened, T'Chaka would die in three days, and T'Challa would take his place as king—an annoyance to Ross but a necessary complication of time’s rules.

Either way, it meant nothing to Ross’ plan. It was the Asset he had fixed his targets on, and it was him that would pay.

Ross needed nothing more than the power he held as one side of Nemesis to make that happen.

Bucky was feeling a little guilty as he drove down Queens Boulevard. He'd seen the others off for their flight to Austria, and as soon as they were out of sight, he'd gone into the garage, grabbed a car, and left the compound.

He knew they’d all be pissed if they knew what he was doing, but he couldn’t resist the lure Peter held for him. He just wanted to see him, check in on him.

Tony had already seen Peter three times, Steve was plotting his visit to come soon, and Nat was working on her chance, too. Even Rhodey had seen him twice, and he had no connection to Peter yet. Bucky, who loved him, was at a disadvantage here, which was why he was taking matters into his own hands.

And hoping they didn’t find out what he’d done.

He reached Peter's neighborhood, stowed the car in a side street, and then set out on foot. He had dressed for the occasion again, baseball cap and gloves on, and thought he fit into the other people milling the streets in the late evening.

He wandered the streets, waiting for the sound of Peter’s webs, but it didn’t come. He wondered if Peter was taking a night off, maybe spending some time with his friend Ned instead. That would suck for Bucky, after driving all this way, and it wasn’t like he could knock on his door to see him. Still, he could stay out as late as he needed just in case. The others wouldn’t be home for at least a day, depending on what happened in Vienna.

When they caught Zemo, and they would, there would be legal issues for them to deal with. Bucky wondered if they'd unmask him before or after locking him up. He wasn't sure he wanted his face out there, even as he was proved innocent, because it would bring his presence to the forefront of the authorities' attention again. Though it probably never fell that low down the list.

Bucky wondered how the others were going to handle being close to Ross once again. He knew Tony especially was struggling to be near him, and Steve admitted seeing him again without punching him was tough. Bucky was sure it would be the same for him. He had to remind himself, just as he’d told Tony, that killing Ross wasn’t what Peter would want. Peter had made a point of leaving him alive when he punished him, dumping him on that planet. None of them had the right to interfere with that, even though they all wanted to.

It had started to drizzle, and Bucky pulled his jacket a little closer around him, flexing his fingers. Tony had taken the measurements he’d need to make him a new arm the day before, but Bucky didn't think he'd had a chance to actually start building anything yet. He knew he had to be patient, but having this hand, the one which had ended the lives of Tony's own parents among dozens of others, was tough.

He heard a shout ahead of him, and after a split second's indecision, he ran towards it. He followed the sound into an alley where a woman was pinned to the wall by a man with a knife at her throat. He was grappling with something in his pocket with his free hand and saying, “Don’t fight me on this,” in a growl.

Bucky grabbed him around the back of the neck and ripped him away from the woman, who cried out in shock. The man swiped out with the knife, and Bucky kicked his hand, making him drop it. The man reached for it, but before he could touch it, a thwip sounded, and the knife was webbed to the ground.

Bucky turned automatically and saw Peter standing in the mouth of the alley. His attention was darting from the woman, who was huddled against the wall, hand over her mouth, to Bucky, standing over the downed man, to the latter, who was still rooting in his pocket.

Bucky was distracted by the sight of Peter in his homemade suit, part of his mind analyzing the amateur nature of it and how it gave him no additional protection compared to what he'd seen Tony make for him. He locked eyes with the black goggles of Peter's suit, and he smiled in spite of himself.

“Asshole!” the man on the ground spat.

Bucky felt something pierce his neck, and then an electric current was rocking through his body, dropping him to his knees and making his teeth grit so hard he thought they’d break. He heard Peter shouting, a thwip, and then a grunt. The current died away, and he took a shuddering breath.

“Are you okay, sir?” Peter was asking.

“I’m fine, bud,” Bucky said automatically.

“He had a taser,” Peter said, sounding astounded. “I’ve never seen one used like that before. That was way more upsetting than it looks on TV. Man, are you sure you're okay?"

“I’m fine,” Bucky said, getting to his feet and ripping the dart out of his neck. The man that had attacked him had been webbed to the ground, hands and legs spreadeagled, and the woman was pushing away from the wall, hand clutching the base of her throat.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Peter asked. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head, lips trembling. “No. He wanted my keys.”

“Your keys?”

She nodded. “He’s my ex-husband. We have…” She drew a shaky breath. “He wanted Suki.”

“Is that your daughter?” Peter asked sympathetically, though with a worried undertone.

“No, she’s our Samoyed." She looked at their blank faces, then went on, "She’s a dog.”

“He had a knife to your throat to get a dog?” Bucky asked incredulously.

“She’s worth about ten-thousand dollars,” she said. “He’d sell her, but I love her.”

“Oh… uh, we should call the police,” Peter said. “He assaulted you both. Do you have a phone, sir?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, and I can’t stick around. There’s somewhere I’ve got to be.”

“No! Wait!” Peter said. “He tasered you. You’ve got to talk to the cops, and you should probably get checked out by a doctor.”

Bucky hated to let Peter down, but he couldn’t talk to the cops. He had to hope that the woman’s statement would be enough for the police to arrest the man.

“Sorry,” Bucky said, taking one last look at Peter in his ridiculous suit, and then jogging away.

He heard Peter apologizing to the woman and comforting her, and he knew he'd left her in safe hands.

If he could have talked to the cops for Peter, he would have, he’d do anything Peter needed, but nothing good would have come of it. Two beat cops weren’t going to be able to take him in, but it would put his face back on the news if they tried, which was the last thing he needed. 

With a guilty weight in his heart, he jogged back to where he’d left the car. He still felt a little shaken from the taser, but he also felt uplifted that he’d seen Peter, spoken to him.

He wondered when he would be able to see him again.

xXx

As Tony stepped off the jet in Vienna International Airport, he looked around and took a breath. He was uneasy here. Not because of the politics they were facing; they had been part of his life since Iron Man's creation. It was the fact they were here to stop a bombing, to save lives and protect Bucky from being framed that was bearing down on him. So much weighed on what they were doing, and he was feeling that pressure as a physical thing on his chest.

If they messed this up, not only would T’Chaka die, but Bucky’s face would be back in the public eye. Selfishly, Tony was worried about both T’Chaka and Bucky equally. T’Chaka was a good enough man, or so he’d heard, but Bucky’s freedom mattered to him just as much as T’Chaka’s life.

Natasha, Rhodey, and Wanda came off after him, and he headed to the car which was waiting for them. Steve, Sam, and Clint were going to remain outside during the ceremony, watching for Zemo and the bomb-laden van he would bring.

They were all without their usual weapons, no shield for Steve or wings for Sam, as the Accords were already technically signed into action with the United Nations. The ceremony was just a formality. The Avengers were retired. That didn't mean they were going to stand down now and let people die, though. They were here as private citizens. It would also play a part in showing that they were on the side of good when they stopped the bomb and unmasked Zemo. That wouldn't be enough to sway the Accords in their favor, Tony was aware, but it was a start.

He climbed into the car, Natasha, Rhodey, and Wanda with him, and the others got into the other car. Sitting back against the leather seat, Tony tried to concentrate on their situation, but instead, his mind dwelled on Peter's first day in the lab.

He'd been impressed by the kid, but he had a feeling Peter was holding back. He was still nervous around Tony, awed by the situation. With what he'd seen of Peter's creation at the science fair, he thought there was a lot more he was capable of that he'd not seen yet. He'd not seen it before, either.

He'd always been impressed by Peter's technical know-how, and he'd made improvements on his own suit that Tony hadn't thought of, but it had always been about the suits—Tony's and Peter's. Tony had not given Peter a chance to branch out and show what else he was capable of. 

Tony knew from experience how hard it was to create a powered exoskeleton, and he’d had the best tools and equipment at his fingertips. Peter had done it in a school workshop. The kid was brilliant.

“You thinking about Peter?” Rhodey asked. 

Tony startled, realizing the car was in motion now. “Huh?”

Rhodey grinned. "You were lost in thought but happier than you should look, considering where this is heading. You were thinking about Peter, right?"

Tony smiled, amused by how obvious he was when it came to Peter. “I was. The kid is brilliant. I thought I knew what he was capable of, I had all that time with him, but I didn’t see it clearly. We kept it to the suits, mine and his, and he was a genius with them, but seeing what he did at the science fair, I realized I was missing so much.”

"Not this time," Rhodey said. "This time, you can really stretch his mind."

"I plan to." Tony looked out of the window at the city rolling past. “I definitely plan to.”

Natasha laughed softly, and Tony’s eyes moved to her. “What?” he asked.

“You’re such a proud dad,” she said. “I thought I saw it in the future, and I guess I did, but it’s so much more now. I wonder if…”

Tony worried she was about to mention Morgan, so he cut her off quickly with a curt, “So, I’m giving the pre-arranged speech, but does anyone else want to talk?”

“Not me,” Natasha said. “I’m no good at speeches.

“Nor me,” Wanda said stiffly.

“Rhodey?” Tony asked.

Rhodey shook his head. “You’re the one in the know here, so I think you should be the one to speak. We’ll follow your lead.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Tony said, though he wished things were different.

He was fine at giving speeches, though he didn’t like doing it, but he felt a lot of pressure this time. It would have been a little easier if others were stepping up, too.

They eventually cruised to a stop outside the Vienna International Center building, and Tony cleared his throat and focused his mind on the task at hand. “Let’s do this.”

He climbed out first and made his way along the path to the building, which was lined with members of the press, their cameras flashing and videos rolling. Questions were shouted at him, but with long-practiced ease, he carried on without answering them.

He strode through the front doors, Natasha, Rhodey, and Wanda behind him, and they were met by a man in a suit who looked them up and down then said, “Follow me, please,” in a stilted tone which made Tony think he was one of those opposed to the Avengers.

The vast auditorium they were led to was already crowded, many seated people with their representing countries on cards in front of them. Many conversations cut off at the sight of them.

Wanda shifted uneasily, and Natasha placed a hand on her arm. “We’ve got this,” she said.

“We have,” Wanda agreed, though she didn’t sound confident.

They were led to seats at the front of the room, and a man leading them said, “Mr. Stark, you will be speaking first.”

Tony nodded. “Thank you.”

The man's lip curled, and he strode away, clearly uncomfortable dealing with them. This was an uncomfortable experience for them all, and Tony was eager to get it done. If not for Zemo's planned attack, they wouldn't be there at all.

Tony's eyes moved right as Ross entered the room. He shot them an appraising glance and then took his seat on the other side of the aisle.

A black-suited man stepped up to the lectern at the front of the room, a representative of the United Nations panel created to control them, and he tapped the microphone and said, "Before we start with our approved speakers, we have been asked if Mr. Tony Stark can address us all. Are there any objections?"

There were murmurs but no outward dissent. Tony was called up, and Rhodey shot him a quick smile and nod.

Tony walked to the lectern and adjusted his tie, then said, "Members of the United Nations, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for allowing me a chance to talk to you. I speak as a representative of the Avengers, and I think you need to hear our message."

He planted his hands on the lectern and went on.

“We are not unwilling to be overseen, none of us. In fact, we agree it’s necessary.” That wasn’t strictly true, Steve was especially against signing, but he accepted it was what had to happen to serve the rest of their plan. “What we do not want to do is give up our basic human rights.”

There were more murmurs, and Tony saw Ross smirk down at his lap.

"We will sign the Accords if changes can be made to protect our rights. As they are written now, we face life imprisonment without trial. That is not acceptable to us, and we don't think it would be to any of you if you were in our position. We are here as a gesture of goodwill. We will make ourselves available for discussion to alter the Accords, and we will all stand down in temporary retirement until this can be arranged."

Tony felt an intense gaze on him, and he saw T'Chaka in the second row, appraising him. At his side, T'Challa was nodding slowly as if in agreement. He had as much at stake in this as the Avengers. Though it was unknown to the rest of the world, The Black Panther was subject to the Accords, too. If things had progressed the same way as before, he would have been arrested with Steve.

Tony cleared his throat. “I think I’ve said all that needs to be said.”

He stepped down and went back to his seat, not opening himself to questions. With representatives of 117 countries here, it would have taken a while to get through them, and it would perhaps side even more people against them if he couldn’t give the answers they wanted. 

T’Chaka was introduced next, and Tony, Natasha, Rhodey, and Wanda stiffened. This was when the bomb was due. It shouldn’t happen, wouldn’t with Steve and the others out there to stop it, but they were all still tense.

T’Chaka took up his place and looked around, taking in the room before speaking.

"When stolen Wakandan vibranium was used to make a terrible weapon, we in Wakanda were forced to question our legacy. Those men and women killed in Nigeria were part of a goodwill mission from a country too long in the shadows. We will not, however, let misfortune drive us back. We will fight to improve the world we wish to join." He stopped and looked at Tony for a moment, then went on. "I wish the Avengers would sign now, but Wakanda is willing to make amendments to the fairness of all interested parties. I call upon our fellow countries to do the same.”

Throughout his speech, Tony and Natasha fixed their eyes on the window. Tony was wondering what was happening out there if they had caught Zemo yet.

As T’Chaka’s speech came to a close, Natasha leaned over and whispered, “It’s not happening. They stopped him. The bomb went off before now last time. We should get out there, help them lock him down.

Tony let out a breath of relief and whispered, “They’ve got it. We’ve got to show the right—” then cut off and froze as a voice cried out from the back of the room where selected members of the public were seated.

“Umbulali!”

There was the crack of a gun, and Tony leaped to his feet. He was not the only one— everyone was shouting and standing. Tony's eyes soon landed on T'Chaka, who was wide-eyed with shock, then to Wanda, who was holding out her hands, eyes focused on a red glow that was fixed in front of T'Chaka. Tony squinted and saw the small fleck of a bullet—the bullet which would have hit T'Chaka without Wanda's intervention—surrounded by the glow of her power.

"Keep it up, Wanda," he urged.

T'Challa ran forward, and from his pocket came a small handheld device that he tapped, and a shield-shaped glow of blue light spread from it. He placed it in front of his father and said, "You can release it now, Miss Maximoff."

Wanda, who was breathing hard, lowered her hands. The red light disappeared, and there was a strange sound as the bullet hit the shield T'Challa was holding. It dropped down on the floor, its forward propulsion extinguished. 

T'Challa lowered the shield and placed his hand on his father's shoulder. "Father, are you okay?"

T'Chaka placed his hand on his chest and nodded mutely. Tony looked back to Wanda and saw she was standing blank-faced, staring at her hands as if unsure what they had just done. He knew what she’d done—she'd just saved T'Chaka’s life.

He looked around and saw Natasha and Rhodey with a man gripped between them, dragging him to the front of the room. He was writhing and spitting curses, his face twisted with fury.

“This is the shooter,” Natasha said.

T’Challa walked towards him, his eyes narrowed, and said, “Why did you try to shoot my father?”

"I didn't want to just shoot him," he said. "I wanted to kill him." He spat at T'Challa's feet. "He's a murderer!"

T’Chaka moved towards him, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “N'Jobu,” he breathed. “No!”

“I am N'Jadaka," the man said scathingly.

T'Chaka's eyes grew even wider, and his hand pressed harder into his chest.

“Who is this, Father?” T’Challa asked.

T'Chaka shook his head, and then his eyes squeezed shut, and his hand moved to grip his left arm. Shocked by what he was seeing, Tony rushed forward and helped T'Challa ease him to the floor, then shouted for a medic.

T’Challa was kneeling at T’Chaka’s head, talking to him in a language Tony did not understand. People in red uniforms with white crosses on the back rushed forward, and Tony moved away to give them room to work.

Natasha and Rhodey were still holding the shooter. More people in black uniforms flocked forward and announced they were the police. Natasha and Rhodey handed over the man then watched as the medics fought to revive T’Chaka.

Tony stared in horror, not understanding how this could happen when they'd saved him from the bomb, not knowing who the shooter was or how he was here. He felt eyes on them, and he looked across to where Ross was standing. His arms were crossed over his chest, and there was inexplicable smugness in his face, though Tony could see he was trying to hide it. Why he would be pleased about what was happening, Tony had no idea, but when the medics announced the time of death, Ross nodded once and walked away, T'Challa's desperate cries echoing after him.

Tony felt someone approach behind him, and he turned and saw Steve, Sam, and Clint. They looked shell-shocked as they took in the scene in front of them.

“What are you doing in here?” Tony asked. “What about Zemo?”

"He didn't come," Steve said in a low voice. "There was no sign of any attack at all."

Tony’s mouth dropped open. “That’s impossible,” he said. “Zemo was here.”

“That’s the problem,” Steve said. “He wasn’t, which means time was changed. Since we’re the only ones that are supposed to be able to do that, with the Time Stone, it means…”

Tony’s heart sank as he understood what Steve was saying. “We’re not the only ones here, are we?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t think so. Someone intercepted Zemo’s path, and it wasn’t us. Someone else is changing things.”

Tony massaged his forehead as pain spiked behind his eyes. This was a nightmare. If they weren’t the only ones sent back, it meant there was another player on the board that they couldn’t control, someone that could, and probably was, working against them.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked behind him.

“Zemo didn't show,” Steve said. “His path was changed by someone else. It wasn’t one of us, and we’re supposed to be the only ones that can change things without just creating a new timeline. So, there’s someone else here with that power.”

Natasha spoke a word in Russian, which was inflected as a curse. "You know what this means?" she asked, the words bitten off.

Tony massaged his temples. “Yeah. It means Ego has got to be here, too—or Nemesis if she’s got another host.”

Steve nodded. "That's what I figure, which means we've got a way bigger problem than just keeping Bucky free. If they’re here, it means they’re working their own plan."

“And we have no idea what that is,” Tony said, his voice cracked with tension. “Or who they are.”

“Exactly,” Steve said.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, the sounds of the room fading around him, and he willed himself to be calm.

This whole situation just got a thousand times more dangerous. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Weekend Is Here!  
> Thank you all of you that got in touch after the last chapter. I’ve been having a bit of trouble, but you all gave me a boost that was needed.

Bucky heard the Quinjet land, but he couldn’t go out to meet them, even though he wanted to, because there were other people around the compound. He had to stay in the common room and wait for them to come to him.

Steve had called from Vienna, told him that Zemo hadn't shown, but T'Chaka had died. He’d said nothing else, just that they needed to be together to discuss what happened.

Bucky was concerned and confused. He didn't know T'Chaka, but he knew and cared about T'Challa, and he'd been hoping he would be spared the loss of his father this time around. He knew how hard it had been for him, and he knew what had followed with Killmonger. He had hoped they could do something about it, warn T'Challa what was coming in just a couple months.

That hope had been complicated by the fact that Wakanda was so against the Avengers now, so much so that even Tony had been unlikely to get an audience with T'Chaka before. Bucky didn't think that it would be any easier to get with T'Challa now his father was dead. Bucky owed T'Challa and Shuri, though, liked them and wanted to save them from that pain.

The door opened behind him, and he got to his feet to see Tony coming in. Steve was following, and the others brought up the rear with Vision, who had evidently gone out to meet them. They all bore the same world-weary expressions and some strain that he thought was more than just what had happened in Vienna. In fact, Steve and Tony looked almost afraid.

“Okay,” he said. “What did I miss?”

Tony gave him a bleak look, said, "You don't want to know," he strode across the room and dropped onto a couch.

“Steve?” Bucky prompted.

“We think—” Steve started.

“We’re pretty damn sure,” Tony interjected.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, nodded, and said, “We’re pretty sure Ego is here, too.”

Bucky felt like he'd been sucker-punched in the gut, and he dropped back onto his seat with a rough exhale.

They all took their seats, the ones in the know, Steve, Tony, and Natasha, looking much darker than the ones that hadn’t done the time jump with them.

“I’m still not clear on who Ego is,” Wanda said.

“She’s the being that almost killed Peter,” Tony said. “He _would_ have been killed if not for the Stones. She _crushed_ him.”

“She’s the origin of the Stones,” Steve said. “The seventh Stone, Ego, can combine with a person—human or alien, according to Peter—and they become Nemesis, the threat..”

“How do you know she’s back?” Bucky asked.

“Because time was changed,” Tony said, tilting his head back on the couch and closing his eyes. “Zemo didn’t show, and that had nothing to do with us, so someone else interfered with his path. We can do that because we’ve got the Time Stone connection, but we’re the only ones apart from her.”

“Unless the kid sent someone else back,” Sam said.

Tony’s eyes opened and narrowed into a glare. “You think Peter sent someone else that would screw with our plan?”

Sam shrugged. "I'm just saying it might not be the worst-case scenario."

“No,” Bucky said sharply. “Peter wouldn’t have done that. Why would he? He sent us back here to change things. He wouldn’t throw a spanner in the works for us.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “No way.”

“But we’re not doing what he wanted,” Sam said. “When Vision was talking—”

“Mind,” Tony corrected.

“Okay, when Mind was talking, he said you were doing it wrong. It’s not about Thanos or the Accords. Maybe whoever he sent knows more than us.”

Tony seemed to consider what he was saying, which Bucky watched him incredulously, angry that he was doubting Peter.

“No,” Tony said eventually, lessening the tightness on Bucky’s chest somewhat. “Peter wouldn’t do that.”

“But would he send you here to face Nemesis if they’re that much of a threat?” Wanda asked.

“No,” Tony said. “Not unless he knew we were safe. He’d never risk our lives like that. In the future, he put us under his protection.” His lips quirked with a smile. “He called it the Baby Monitor Protocol to get back at me for what I did to his suit. But it protects us. You, Rhodey, were holding a bomb when it blew, and you didn’t get a scratch. He put us all under it after he was attacked, but I doubt that covers us here.”

"Let's find out," Natasha said, pulling a knife from her boot and tossing it from hand to hand. "None of you guys have even had as much as a shaving nick, right?"

“Yeah, but I don’t think you should be—”

Steve cut off as Natasha tugged up her sleeve and made a shallow cut across her arm, making blood well and drip.

“I’m not protected,” she said with finality, lowering her sleeve.

“Then there’s something else,” Bucky said. “Peter would _not_ have sent us here against Nemesis if we’re vulnerable.” He rubbed his temples. “Maybe they sent someone themselves. They don’t have to be here themself. Peter sent us, and Ego is apparently free of the same rules as us with Time, so they could have sent someone. Maybe they know what we're doing and want to stop it."

“You think Nemesis want Thanos to attack?” Steve asked.

“No. They wouldn’t want him—he was the one with the power, and they’d want it to be them.” Tony cursed. “We need to talk to Peter. Vis, I don’t suppose Mind’s popped in again, has he?”

Vision shook his head. “No. I have felt nothing like that. I have been attempting to connect with him, though, with Peter, to talk. I had misgivings about what you were planning, as it seemed to be against his wishes in sending you here, but there’s nothing.” He touched the Stone on his head. “I feel very alone within my mind.”

Tony groaned. “Okay, here’s what we do know: Peter wouldn’t have sent us here if there was a risk to our lives. He would have kept us there with him where he could protect us.”

“You have a lot of faith in him,” Wanda said.

Tony’s jaw twitched. “I do because I know him.”

“We’ve got good reason to have faith, Wanda,” Steve said. “Peter was targeted by Thaddeus Ross, who was president in 2023. He lured Peter out of the safe house we were staying in by threatening… one of us.”

Bucky saw Tony’s relief that Steve had not referenced Morgan. He’d made it clear that Morgan was a secret to be kept only between those that knew about her in the future. He wanted Pepper to have an organic experience of motherhood, not to be waiting for it to happen.

“The person he targeted had a gun held on them from a distance for three weeks,” Steve went on. “And we didn’t know. Peter had just been dumped with some big news, so we thought he’d taken off on his own. For three weeks, Peter was on The Raft, being tortured and brainwashed, and he didn’t fight back for a second as someone he loved was at risk.”

“He was being programmed like I was,” Bucky said. “He had the Stones, he could have gotten free in a second, but he didn’t because it put us at risk. You can’t imagine what that did to him, he was in hell, but he suffered it rather than someone else getting hurt. There’s no way he would send us here against her.”

“Then what’s happening?” Rhodey asked. “Say this Nemesis also sent someone back to change things, what’s their game plan, and how does Zemo play into it? He didn't show up to frame Bucky, so what's he doing instead?"

"I don't think I'm the target this time," Bucky said. "I don't—" He sat up straight, and his hands fisted as horror rushed through him.

“What, Buck?” Steve asked.

"They don't need me!" Bucky said, eyes wide and mind reeling. "If they're from the future, too, they already know about the Winter Soldiers—they don’t need me to find out where they are or to tear you apart. That could be the endgame for them. If they set them free, there will be carnage. Zemo killed them before, but do you think it'd be hard to turn him around from that goal? And that's if it even is Zemo back. Anyone could have found out about Siberia. We made big waves there."

“Zemo wanted to destroy us,” Steve said thoughtfully. “That was his whole thing—to get revenge for Sokovia. He knew what you did to Howard, Bucky, and he knew how Tony would react.”

Rhodey frowned. “What did you do to Howard?”

"It doesn't matter," Tony said, eyes distant. "If it is Zemo, his goal is bound to fail; we're all united this time around. Besides, if Nemesis wanted us to destroy the team, they’d have just let things go on as before. Peter said it wasn't about the Accords, so that's not why he sent us. This is bigger than that."

“I think we need to know,” Steve said. “We have to find out if the Winter Soldiers are in the chambers still. If they are, we’ve got to kill them. If not, we’ll know they’re part of the plan.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll go there and find out.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bucky said, rising to his feet. “If they’re not in the ice, they might still be hanging around the base. You’ll need me.”

Steve thought a moment, then nodded. "We'll leave now.”

“You want me to come?” Tony asked.

“No, we’ve got it,” Steve said. “Stay close to Vision in case Mind comes back. If he does, find out what’s going on, what Peter needs from us.”

"I'll do my best," Tony said heavily. "That’s only going to happen if Pete's got enough energy to connect again."

The way he said it made it clear he doubted it, and that made a chill ripple down Bucky's spine. He wanted to know what was happening to Peter in 2023. He also wanted to know what was happening to the others if time was passing. If it was, what were the people they left behind going through? How were they suffering without them?

Steve and Bucky went out to the jet and climbed on. Steve took the pilot’s seat, and Bucky sat beside him in the cockpit, a heavy weight in his gut.

If the Winter Soldiers were out there… Well, he’d seen what they were capable of and didn’t want to see it again. 

More than anything, he wished he could talk to Peter, find out what he needed from them, what he wanted, and how they were supposed to do it.

Bucky felt lost.

xXx

Steve and Bucky trudged from the Quinjet to the bunker, their feet crunching in the snow and their breath misting.

“I hate that we’re back here,” Bucky said.

Steve touched his arm. “You don’t have to come in, Buck. I can take care of it.”

Bucky shook his head, hair flipping around his face in the wind. “No. If they’re free in there, you need me.”

“Yeah, but I get why it’d be hard for you to come back. You were tortured here.”

Bucky smiled grimly. “It’s not about that, though I guess it should be. It’s what happened here with Tony. It didn’t matter before; he was nothing to me when we were fighting. Hell, he was trying to kill me. But he’s my friend now, my family. I hate what we did to him.”

Steve swallowed down the lump in his throat. He hated what had happened here, too. He’d been blinded by concern for Bucky, by love, and it had made him attack and seriously injure one of his closest friends. He’d abandoned him here, hurt and weak. Just because Peter had reprieved that memory with a new one, Tony still remembered dragging himself out of this place in the freezing temperature and walking to town for help.

Steve had a lot of regrets in his life, but that was one of the greatest.

Unable to acknowledge that to Bucky, he redirected. “He wasn’t trying to kill you, Buck.”

Bucky stopped dead and gaped at him incredulously. “What?”

Steve laughed in spite of himself. “If Tony had wanted us dead, we’d have been dead in seconds. That suit of his is beyond anything either of us can do. I've seen him take out a three-million-tonne leviathan in it, and that was one of the early models. He could have taken us down without breaking a sweat. He wasn't fighting to kill."

Bucky gaped at him. “But… I… He… Seriously?”

Steve nodded. “He was angry, yeah, and he wanted to hurt us both, but he wasn’t aiming to kill. Maybe he wasn’t aware of it at the time, but he was holding back when we were fighting.”

Bucky whistled and shook his head. “Damn. I never knew that. I thought for sure he was going for the kill.”

"Nope." Steve ran a hand over his face. "I didn't think so at the time; I was worried about protecting you, which is why I went so hard. I see now he had every right to do what he did, though.”

Bucky nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I killed his parents.”

"And I hid it from him. I didn't know it was you, but I knew they'd been murdered by Hydra. If I'd told him when I found out, given him a chance to come to terms with it, it would have gone differently. I think a big part of it was that he'd blamed Howard all that time for killing his mother. He thought he'd been drinking when he drove. He was hit with the fact he'd hated his father for those years for what he'd done, with my betrayal, and your face when he’d just seen that video.” He sighed. “I think I’d have aimed to kill if it had been my ma.”

“Me too,” Bucky said heavily. “Damn. I hate that I did that to him, even though I know now it wasn’t my fault. Of all the crimes as the Winter Soldier, that’s the one that haunts me the most.”

Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, though. You were under Hydra’s control.” His eyes drifted to the bunker in the distance. “Just like the others were.”

“They won’t be now, though,” Bucky said. “Not unless Zemo used the words on them. I’ve seen them in action, Steve. They’re lethal. We’ve got to hope they’re on ice or dead.”

“Then let’s find out,” Steve said.

They carried on through the snow, coming to the heavy door. It was locked last time, but Steve had been able to rip it from the hinges without too much difficulty. This time it wasn’t closed properly, and Steve drew a deep breath.

“We’re not the first people to come here.”

Bucky nodded his agreement. "Then let's hope it was Zemo coming in to kill them.”

Steve took the lead inside, wishing he had his shield. That was one of the rules they had to obey, though, because of the Accords—they could use none of their usual weapons. No widow bites for Natasha, no Exo-7 suit for Sam, and no shield for Steve. They had guns, though, and they had to hope they would be enough.

There were no sounds but their footsteps on the metal stairs, and Steve let that give him a little hope. Both he had Bucky had keen hearing, and they would have heard voices by now if they were there. However, the Winter Soldiers might not be talking—they might be lying in wait.

They crept down the stairs and then took a right to where Steve remembered the cryo-chambers being. He passed the spot where he’d left Tony lying in his trashed suit and averted his eyes. 

“This way,” Bucky said.

They walked through the hall, the cryo-chambers coming into sight, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief. He could see bullet holes in the glass.

“He killed them,” he said. “Or someone did. Maybe Nemesis. You think Ego’s using Zemo the way Peter said she was using Kaecilius?” 

"Not all of them are dead," Bucky growled, coming to a halt in front of one chamber, which Steve saw now was empty.

“Do you know who it was?” he asked.

“Yes,” Bucky hissed. “Josef. He’s the worst of them all, the most twisted and evil. Steve, he’s a more lethal fighter than me.”

Steve closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. This was a nightmare. Zemo, Nemesis, whoever it was, now had a soldier that could take them out. If he could beat Bucky, who was a better fighter than even Steve, it would take Tony in his suit to take him out, maybe.

“We’ve got to scour the place,” Bucky said. “If you see movement, don’t hesitate before shooting. He might be able to take us both out. I don't know. Damn, this is so bad."

Steve placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “We can handle this,” he assured. Though he wasn’t confident himself, he knew he had to pretend for Bucky’s sake. “Let’s go.”

Bucky raised his gun, and his eyes darted around as they moved deeper into the bunker.

Steve didn’t know what they’d do if they couldn’t find and kill Josef, what he would be set free to do, but the fact Bucky was obviously scared of what he could do scared him in return.

If Bucky was scared, what was this man capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… We’ve got a Winter Soldier to contend with now. Things are not looking good for our heroes ;-) This chapter was tough to write, and I edited it many times, so I’m hoping the final product is okay. In fact, I cut the Siberia scene and didn't address the Winter Soldiers at all until much later in the story at one point, but I realized they're not stupid and would check. I had to come back and do some juggling to make it work.   
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, we’re having a Monday update. I just got through a VERY stressful event and I thought I could celebrate with a chapter. This is one of my favorites, and it exposes an important facet of the story.   
> I also have an important note to post at the end which I hope you’ll take a moment to read.

When Steve and Bucky arrived back at the compound the next day, the team gathered to hear their story, and it turned out to be just one more problem to land on their laps.

Tony was starting to believe there was no way they were coming out of this intact, and he still didn’t know what Peter really wanted from them. All he knew was what _he_ wanted to do with this gifted time, though he didn’t know if he would be able to anymore.

“So, this Josef out there somewhere,” Tony said heavily. “And he’s more dangerous than anyone you’ve seen, Bucky?”

Bucky nodded. “Since I was the most dangerous person I knew before him, yeah. At least he’s the most dangerous human. We’ve seen worse in aliens.”

“And we have no idea what he’s doing?” Rhodey asked. “You’ve got no 2023 insight?”

Tony shook his head. "None. This isn't what happened before. The bomb killed T'Chaka before; this time, he was shot at then had a heart attack. Last time, some of us signed the Accords; this time, none of us did. Before, Zemo got the words to control Bucky; this time, the words aren't functional since the programming was broken in Wakanda."

“Maybe Zemo knew that,” Steve said. “Or Ego. She probably knows we’re back. There’s got to be some kind of omniscience with that level of power. Maybe she knows we’re changing things this time around, so she’s switching things up with this Josef.”

“Or they just didn’t need me,” Bucky said. “Zemo knew where the base was already. They might not have needed me.”

“It doesn’t explain the shooting in Vienna,” Wanda said. “That didn’t happen before.”

“Maybe because the bomb came first,” Tony said. “The shooter could have been there waiting.”

Bucky ran a hand over his face. “Who was the shooter, do you know?”

“He called himself N'Jadaka,” Steve said.

Bucky frowned and muttered, “N'Jadaka, why do I know that name?”

“It sounds like a Wakandan name,” Tony said.

Bucky nodded, eyes distant, then gasped. “No! It’s Killmonger? That’s what they called him anyway.” He pressed his fingers to his temples. “He’s the one that overthrew T’Challa. He nearly killed T'Challa and took over the throne. He planned to use Wakandan weapons to wage war to promote black people's rights around the world. He was T’Challa’s cousin, and T'Chaka killed his father. He hated him for what he did.”

“So, he could have been there to shoot T’Chaka last time around, but the bomb killed him before he could take the shot. With T’Chaka dead, he turned his attention to T’Challa instead.”

Bucky nodded. “But if Killmonger is in jail, he can’t unleash any of that again.” He smiled slightly. Even though T’Chaka died, Wakanda has been saved a lot of grief without Killmonger free.”

“That’s great and all,” Tony said, heavy dread in his stomach. “But it doesn’t help us with Josef. We have no idea what he’s planning, what Ego wants from him.”

“It’s strange, though,” Rhodey said. “When you told me about Ego, I figured we were facing something huge, something like this Thanos you told us about. Josef, as dangerous as he is, is basically small fry next to that. What does Ego want if not some kind of worldwide event? Why would she want him?”

Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes and looked at the other blank faces in the room. None of them knew. Tony couldn’t imagine what Ego might want. He could only hope Peter would be the one to tell them soon. Since he’d arrived back in 2016 and Steve shared his thoughts, he’d thought they had to stop Thanos. That would have been a big ask, but not insurmountable. But Ego, whatever she was planning, was not going to be something that could stop without Peter.

And Tony _knew,_ better that he knew anything in his life, that Peter would not have sent them here to die. He would have put himself here, too. He would have protected them. Did that mean Ego was not the threat they had to face? But if that was the case, and they weren’t here for the Accords or Thanos, what did Peter want from them?

Tony would have given almost anything to talk to his son, even for only a minute. He wanted to know what he was doing and what he wanted from them. If they knew that, they could act.

“We can’t talk to Peter,” he said, then looked to Vision. “Can we?”

Vision shook his head. “Not that I can tell. I’ve been trying, but I think it was a connection Peter created, not one that I can return.”

“So, we’ve got to handle this on our own,” Tony said. “We need someone that knows more than us.”

“The Ancient One?” Steve suggested. “She must know more than us. Just because we’re connected to the Time Stone, none of us can use it to look ahead. She can.”

Tony nodded his agreement,

“How do we reach her?” Rhodey asked. “Do you have a number for her?”

“No,” Tony said. “Not direct, but I know there’s one of their places in The Village. That’s where Strange was based. Last time she said she was heading back to Kamar-Taj, but maybe we can get a message to her.” He took out his phone and said, “Friday, find me the number for the New York Sanctum of the Masters of the Mystic Arts.”

“You think they’ll be in yellow pages?” Sam asked, a touch of scorn in his voice.

“No, but Friday will find them. Won’t you, Friday?”

"I already have," she announced. "The number is now on your cell phone."

“Thanks.” Tony took his cell from his pocket, pulled up the number, and dialed. 

It rang six times before a voice answered with a formal, “Hello.”

"Hello," Tony said, keeping his voice the media-friendly, ingratiating one that he used when he wanted something. “It’s Tony Stark. You may know me—”

“I know who you are, Mr. Stark. What do you want from us?”

“I need to speak to the Ancient One. It’s an emergency.”

There was a brief pause, and then the voice said, "She is not in the country at the moment."

“No, but since she can swirl her way anywhere she wants, I think you can get her here. If you can pass on a message that the Avengers need to speak to her urgently at our compound, I think she’ll come.”

“I’ll pass on the message,” the voice said, then the call cut off.

Tony set his phone down on the table and said, “I think she’ll get the message.”

“If she comes is another thing,” Rhodey said. “She didn’t exactly seem like the caring sharing type when she was here before.”

“I think she’ll come,” Steve said, rubbing his chin. “She’s invested in this. I know she died, or will die, and Strange took over, but Bruce said she was invested in the world even after she’d leave it. She trained Strange to take her place, after all, and he’s good.”

“He is,” Tony agreed. “As annoying as he is, I’d kill to have him here with us right now. He doesn’t show up until next year, though, not as he should be anyway.”

“Still, we’ll work it out with—”

Rhodey cut off as the circle of light swirled by the window, and then the Ancient One appeared. She looked a little strained, and Tony wondered if she was following what had been happening as closely as they had and what she was making of it.

She looked from face to face, settling on Tony, and said, “Things have changed, and it was not you.”

Tony shook his head. “It wasn’t. How much do you know?”

“I know that King T’Chaka’s foreseen death by bomb did not occur. What do you know?”

"We know one of the other Winter Soldiers has been freed from the ice in Siberia, and we don't know where he's gone," Bucky said.

“And we think it’s Ego behind it,” Tony said. “We think she’s here with us.”

The only reaction from The Ancient One was that she blinked and murmured, “I see.”

“You see?” Tony asked. “That’s all you’ve got to say? Ego, the being that managed to trash Peter, even with the Stones, is here, and you’ve got nothing else to say?”

A frown pinched her brow. “What do you want me to say? I don’t know anything about Ego. I did not know she was free until you told me. I can only see as far as the day of my own death. I only know a little more as Doctor Strange helped me to look ahead when I was with him after Peter returned the Stone.”

“And what did he show you?” Tony asked. “There’s more than you’ve told us, more than Strange told us, I can tell. He was hiding something from us before, I know it. What was it?”

For a moment, he thought she was going to tell them, and he needed to know, but she merely gave her head a small shake and said. "I think you could all benefit from a lesson in time travel." She folded her hands under her chin and said, "Some things are in flux, and others are set in stone. King T'Chaka's death was one of the latter. As the bomb did not work, he died of…"

“Heart attack after being shot at,” Tony supplied.

She nodded. “A heart attack. That death was fixed because he played a pivotal role in the future, at least his legacy did. His son, T’Challa’s, place on the path was vital. T’Chaka died because he had to.”

“Who decides?” Bucky asked. “Is this something Time gets to decide?”

She shook her head, and her hand settled over the pendant on her chest. “Not Time, no, but Time sees when directed.”

"But Time can be wrong," Tony said. "Strange saw over fourteen million outcomes to Thanos and only one win, which was me snapping and dying. Peter created a future Time did not see."

For a moment, she looked surprised; either the information was new to her, or she had not considered it, and then her features became a mask again. "I do not know how that happened. I can only imagine that Peter Parker was something the Stones had not seen coming."

“They’re not the only ones,” Bucky said with a small smile. “Kid took us all off guard.”

Tony nodded, smiling a moment, and then he became solemn again. “Okay, maybe you can answer me this. If Ego is here with us, and she’s working her own plan, what do we do?”

She frowned. “You live.”

“Do we, though?” Sam asked. “This Ego thing sounds pretty lethal. Perhaps we’re all lining up to die right now.”

“You are not,” she said. “I have seen you all in a battle to end all battles in seven years. Well, almost all of you?”

“Who’s missing?” Tony asked warily.

The Ancient One's eyes darted to Natasha and then looked away.

“Me,” Natasha stated. “So, I’m going to die.”

“No!” Clint snapped. “You’re not.”

Natasha held up a hand. "Does this mean we fail to stop Thanos, that I die to get the Soul Stone again, or is it something else?"

“You’re not dying!” Clint growled.

“Well?” Natasha prompted, ignoring Clint.

"I do not know for sure," she said. "We do not see all paths, just outcomes. The path you are on now leads to a huge battle. You are not there, Ms. Romanoff, but I do not know precisely where that battle is placed in time. It could be the battle between yourselves and Thanos, which has already passed for some of you, or it could be something new that is coming. I don't know."

“Look,” Tony ordered. “Look deeper, now, and tell us what happens.”

“I cannot,” she said. “What I see ends January 19th next year—the day of my death. I was able to see flashes of more through Doctor Strange’s connection to the Time Stone. I cannot tell you what is coming past that point.”

“This is bullshit,” Clint spat. “No one is dying.” He pointed at Natasha. “You’re not dying!”

Natasha shook her head, a small smile playing around her lips. “I know what will happen to me if and when I die, and I am not afraid of it. I can die and be perfectly happy with that fate.” Her eyes narrowed. “So, quit being a baby about it, Barton.”

Clint’s mouth dropped open, and Tony saw the small flash of sadness on Natasha’s face before she schooled it into a mask. Tony didn’t know where she had been on the Soul Plane; she’d never told them. Vision had been in a place that looked like the compound, and he’d been happy to come back to Wanda. Perhaps Natasha had what she’d needed wherever she was.

“This battle,” Rhodey said. “Is Peter there?”

Tony's gaze snapped to her, and he saw the smallest twitch at the corner of her eyes before she answered. "Peter Parker is on that battlefield."

“So, it could be what already happened, or it could be something that’s still coming,” Steve said. “Queens was there with us when we faced Thanos.” He rubbed his temples. “You really can’t tell us anything else?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I have told you that you will live until at least 2023, at least most of you. Is that not enough?”

“No,” Tony snapped. “Not when I _know_ you’re still hiding something from us.”

She cut a hand through the air. “Fine. You want to know what I know, even though it’s going to destroy your peace of mind for the next seven years?”

Tony got to his feet and advanced on her. “Yes! I want to know!”

She nodded and stared into his eyes as she answered, "Very well. Of the millions of outcomes we saw for that battle, in each one, except one which was the vaguest and most unlikely of them all, Peter Parker dies."

Tony staggered back a step in shock, hand flying to his chest and horror filling him. “Pete’s going to die?”

He heard someone cry out in shock, and Bucky jumped to his feet, but it was a muffled blur around him.

“Yes,” she said. “At least that is millions of times more likely than him living. I don't know how or why. What I do know is that his death is the result of the Stones. Whether that comes in a battle you have not yet faced, or in the battle in which he already changed the possible outcomes, I do not know." She took a deep breath, sighed it out, and said, "But yes, in all likelihood, Peter Parker is going to die." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… That happened. It’s not a shock to us, obviously, since we’ve known since Story III that Peter’s got bad odds against him, but now they all know. We’ve got a big chapter coming up next, lots of discussion and sides being chosen. See you there :-)  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx
> 
> IRONDAD CREATORS AWARDS!
> 
> Nominations will open March 22rd for the first Irondad Creators Awards. They’re for writers, stories, and art creators of the Irondad Fandom. Winners will be decided by a vote in which all nominated stories will be open for winners. This is a chance to show your appreciation for the creators of the content we devour.   
> More information can be found at
> 
> <https://irondad-creator-awards.tumblr.com/>


	17. Chapter Sixteen

The moment the dooming words passed the Ancient One’s lips, Tony ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Steve wanted to follow, to help, but he knew Tony wouldn’t want it. He’d need space to deal with this alone, or perhaps with Pepper’s help—not Steve’s.

Steve sat in shock, trying to process the idea of Peter dying when everything they'd been told before said that it was impossible. Steve didn't understand how it could happen, especially as The Ancient One said his death came at the hands of the Stones, which were supposed to protect him. What could happen to make them turn against him?

Bucky, who’d been staring into space with horror in his eyes, turned and walked away, out of the French doors into the compound’s landscaped outdoor space. Steve watched him a moment, wondering whether or not to follow, and then decided he would. Even if it was not what Bucky wanted, it was what Steve needed. This grief belonged to those of them from 2023, though Natasha was not as connected to Peter as them, and she seemed to be working through the news in her own way. Steve wanted the presence of his best friend to help him.

Steve followed Bucky out, eyes scanning the grounds for a sign of him, and he saw him slipping into the forest which edged the compound. He went after him, hearing the sounds of destruction before he saw him. Bucky was raging, shouting in fury, and there was the contradicting sound of flesh and something more solid hitting wood.

Steve reached him and stood back a little when he saw what Bucky was doing. His fists were pounding a sturdy pine tree, blood spattering the bark as he used his flesh knuckles and creating thuds with his metal fist.

“Buck,” he said sadly. “Don’t do that.”

Bucky spun, nostrils flaring with his sharp breaths and eyes dark and angry. “Why not?”

“You’re hurting yourself.”

Bucky snorted. “This! This is not the thing that’s hurting me. What is making me feel like I’m—” He cut off, shook his head, and said, “This is not hurting me.”

Steve caught his fist as he swung again, using all his strength to stop Bucky from ripping his hand free. "I know," he said, voice cracking. "I know, Buck."

“Peter’s going to die,” Bucky said, voice wrecked. “After everything he’s done, everything he suffered and beat down, he’s going to die.”

“He might not,” Steve said. “It’s not guaranteed.”

Bucky scoffed. “Millions of futures of death, and one, the vaguest and most unlikely of them all, in which he lives. Really, Steve, do you think he’s going to live?”

“I have to,” Steve said, voice cracking. “Because if I think of the alternative, I’ll break.”

Tears slipped down Bucky’s face, and Steve felt a wave of new pain, separate to what he already felt himself. He’d not seen Bucky cry since they were kids. The fact he was doing it now, in front of Steve, made him realize just how deep this pain went.

Steve should have known it would happen, though. He’d never seen Bucky connect with anyone the way he had with Peter. It was different from how Bucky felt about him; it was more protective and pure. Bucky loved Peter for who he was, without hesitation, and he’d given Peter a part of himself that Steve had never seen shared. Perhaps Tony was Peter’s father, but Bucky loved Peter with that same overwhelming need to protect, too.

Steve placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. “You’ve got to be strong for Queens, Buck.”

Bucky shook his head. "He's not here. He can't see me. He's in 2023, lying in that hospital bed without us, and we don't know how long that will last or when we'll be back. There's a battle, yeah, but is it the one we already faced or something that’s still coming? Peter was with us when Thanos came back, and he’ll be with us if we face a threat again.” He pressed his metal fingers to his eyes. “And that battle is going to kill him.”

“It might not. There’s a chance he’ll live. You heard what she said—we’re all there with him. We can protect him, Buck. We can create that one winning future.”

“Against Ego?” Bucky asked. “You saw what she did to him. How can any of us protect him from that if it’s her?”

“We’ll find a way.” Steve forced surety into his tone, willing the words to be true because he needed them to be. He was lost in this, scared, but he had to believe they could save Peter. If he let himself believe the alternative, like he told Bucky, he would break and be useless.

Bucky stared at him, the tears slipping down his cheeks unchecked. “Seven years.”

Steve shook his shoulder. “Exactly! We’ve got seven years to change things. We can find a way to sway things in our favor. We will talk to Mind again, just as soon as Peter is strong enough, and we can ask him what he knows. If Time was used to see what Strange and The Ancient One saw, he might know what happens. If he can tell us, we can come up with a plan.”

Bucky grimaced. “Yeah, seven years to come up with a plan, or two years left to love Peter before he dies.” He drew a deep breath through his nose. “We have two years, me and Peter have two years, and then we get him back in time for the battle which will kill him!”

“I don’t believe that,” Steve said roughly. “We’ve fought big odds together before.” An inkling of hope came to him. “And Queens created a new path once already. Tony should have snapped, he should have died, but Queens changed things. What’s to say he won’t change things again?”

Bucky wiped away the tears, and his lips quirked with a grim smile. "That logic only works one way, Steve. If Peter needs to die to save others, you and I both know he'll sacrifice himself in a heartbeat.”

“Then we don’t let him make that sacrifice. We stop him. We use all we’ve got to stop him and make him see there’s another way. We make him see there’s another way.”

“He suffered for Morgan,” Bucky reminded him.

“He did, but he’s even more bonded to her now that he was then. If we can make him see that he needs to live for her, no one will fight harder to survive than him.”

Bucky stared down at his bloody and bruised knuckles a moment and then nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. He’ll fight to live for Morgan.”

“He will, And he’ll fight to live for us, too. I know how you feel about him, Buck, and I know he feels the same for you. We are all going to fight harder than we ever have to save him, and we do have a chance.”

Bucky took a shaky breath. “You really think we can do this?”

Steve knew the answer Bucky needed, as it was the same one he needed himself, and he gave it with force in his voice. “I know we can."

They had to because the alternative would break them apart more thoroughly than any civil war could.

xXx

Tony was drunk when Pepper found him, a bottle of whiskey clutched between his knees in a limp hand. He had collapsed on the couch the moment he was alone, ripped off his shirt when his collar had started to choke him, and now he was bare-chested and cold from the air conditioning. He made no attempt to change that, though, and ignored Friday's suggestions about adjusting the temperature. Instead, he drank until his eyes blurred and his head swam.

He thought he knew fear; he’d certainly felt it before. This was different, though. This was not about sacrificing himself by flying a nuke into a wormhole. It was not his death he was facing. This was the thought of losing his kid to overwhelming odds in a battle he may have already lived through once—or one that was still to come.

He took another swig from the bottle and bowed his head when he heard Pepper enter the room. She stopped in front of him, and he felt her eyes boring into him.

He forced himself to look up at her, saw the show of annoyance, shock, confusion, then sadness crossed her face, and she sat down beside him and said, "I was in the city when Friday told me you needed me. I left a board meeting to come."

Tony huffed a laugh. “Sorry I made you do that.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “I don’t care about them. I care about you. What’s happened? Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Tony closed his eyes and whispered, “Peter is going to die.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, and her fingers tightened, nails cutting into his skin. "Is he sick?"

Tony shook his head. “No, he’s fine. He’s probably swinging around Queens right now, happy and free, alive. But in seven years, he’s going to die.”

”How do you know?”

“Because that bastard Strange and his buddy saw it. They saw millions of futures, a huge battle, and Peter dying.” He drew a shuddering breath. “There is one future, one against all the odds the world can throw at him, in which he lives.”

Her fingers loosened. “So he might live?”

“Millions, Pep—there are millions of deaths and only one life. What do you think’s going to happen?”

She sank down next to him. “I thought he couldn’t die. You told me he was immortal with the Stones.”

“I did because that’s what he said, but the bitch that delivered this news said it’s the Stones themselves that are going to kill him. Those… bastards! They were supposed to protect him. He was worthy of them, they chose him to do good, and now they’re going to kill him.”

Pepper sighed and leaned in close to him. Her lips pressed against his cheek, and that was the trigger for the tears that he had been keeping at bay.

She wiped them away with her warm fingers, cupping his face, and said, “I’m sorry, Tony.”

He swallowed hard. “It makes me think… I thought he was sending us back to stop Thanos, to save the world, now I can't help but wonder…"

“Wonder what?” she asked.

He grimaced. “I can’t help but wonder if it was a gift after all. Maybe he’s giving us these years, a do-over, to make the most of what we missed out on before.”

Pepper leaned her head against his shoulder. She wasn’t talking, but he could almost hear the cogs turning in her brain as she put her brilliant mind to use. "Or he's trying to save himself."

Tony froze. "You think he knows?"

Pepper shrugged. “I don’t know him. Do you think he might?”

Tony considered, remembering those weeks he’d had with him before they’d come back. Peter had been keeping a huge secret from them then, the dreams he’d been having, but what if it had been more? He’d assured them the attacks he dreamed of weren’t going to kill him, but had that been a carefully chosen assurance when he knew there was something else that would? He had the Time Stone. If Strange knew what was happening, didn’t that mean Peter had to know, too?

“I think he could know,” he said, turning the possibility over in his mind. If he did, he definitely wouldn’t have told us.” He sighed. “He’s too damn stubborn and protective to bring us in on that kind of thing.”

“He sounds a lot like you,” she said.

“No,” Tony said quickly. “He’s way better than me, a good person, everything I’m not.”

“You’re a good man, Tony. I know it, Rhodey knows it, and your team knows. If what Steve tells me about how much Peter loves you is true, he knows it, too. None of us would love you if what you believed about yourself was true.”

Tony sighed. They did love him, he knew that, but they all loved him despite who he was, not because of it. The innocent love of Peter and Morgan was different; they were young enough to see only the good in him. He loved his children and Pepper more than anything else in his life, more than he ever would love anything, and he knew their love for him was a gift.

“Do you know when he’s supposed to die?” she asked.

“The year we’ve come from, 2023,” he said. “And we don’t know if it’s the battle we already fought or if it’s something we’ve not faced yet.”

"Boss," Friday interrupted. "I thought you should know that your visitor has left, and Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers are back in the common room. I think you should join them."

Tony frowned, but Pepper got to her feet and held out a hand to him. He hesitated a moment, then stood, grabbed his shirt from the floor, pulled it on. He took her hand and followed her out of the room and into the common room.

He could see from Bucky’s pale face and red eyes that he had been working through his feelings, too, and the busted knuckles on his right hand told him that had been done with violence. Steve looked pale, but there was determination in his eyes.

“Pepper said something,” Tony said, dropping down onto the couch and then leaning against Pepper when she sat beside him. “Peter sent us back, and we don’t know why. Mind said it’s not Thanos or the Accords, but what if it’s so we can save him?”

“You think this kid knows he’s going to die?” Clint asked.

Bucky nodded, rubbing his chin. “He could. He keeps things close to the chest. He didn’t want to tell me about the dreams at first..” He frowned. “He could have sent us back to save him, I guess.”

“You’re not sure?” Sam asked. “Who wouldn’t want to save their own life?”

Steve smiled grimly. “If Queens thought dying was the right thing to do for others, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He doesn’t _want_ to die, though, I am sure of that. Yeah, it’s totally possible he’s trying to save his life with us here.”

“But how do we do it?” Rhodey asked. “I’m invested; I like the kid I’ve met, and you say I’m going to love him one day, so I’m in. Tell me what to do?”

“That’s the problem,” Tony said. “We don’t know how.”

“There’s two options I can see,” Steve said. “The Ancient One says it’s a battle we’re all fighting in 2023. That could be Thanos’ attack, or it could be something new. We can’t do anything about the new one, we’ve no idea what it is, but we can do something about Thanos.”

Tony nodded slowly, processing the thought, and then sucked in a breath. “The Stones! They're what kills him, so we stop him from having them!" He jumped to his feet and paced up and down in front of the couch. "This is it! If we stop Peter from ever getting hold of the Stones, we can save him. If he doesn't have them, they can't kill him. We had a chance before, when we were facing Thanos, but we didn't get them out of there in time. Peter snapped before we could. This time we make sure he doesn't get the gauntlet, get it back into the quantum bridge, and finish it. There will be no Stones. There will be no death."

“You mean let it play out?” Rhodey asked. “The Snap you told us about, the battle in 2023 after everyone comes back?”

Tony nodded. “Exactly.”

“You think we can pull that off?” Sam asked. “I wasn’t there, or at least I’ve not been there yet, but that fight sounds big.”

Tony nodded. “We can. If we all know what to do, to keep Peter away from the Stones, we can stop him snapping.” He ran a hand through his hair. “This is how we save his life, save him from Ross, and save him from the burden of the Stones.”

Bucky flexed his raw and bloody knuckles, face thoughtful. “We can do this. If we _all_ know what's at stake, what we need to do, we can pull it off. We'll know he's coming this time; we'll be prepared, so we can work out a plan of action."

This was going to be difficult, but for Peter, Tony would make it happen.

He was not about to lose his son again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… They've got a plan. I am enjoying the mystery aspect of this story as I know what's coming, and they—and hopefully you—don't. It's not that I enjoy the power of knowledge. It's just that you are all having an organic experience of the plot along with the characters. I sometimes wish I could have that.   
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d say Happy Saturday, but this chapter might kick the happy out of it. I’ll just say thanks for reading xxx

Wanda, who had been listening to their conversation in silence, spoke up. “I have a question. How did Thanos get the Mind Stone from Vision?”

A stiff silence settled over the room, and Steve’s hands twitched into fists.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Thanos killed him in the Battle of Wakanda in 2018,” Steve admitted.

His eyes moved to Vision, who showed no shock at the knowledge he would die, then to Wanda, whose eyes were narrowed and cheeks pale. She did not yet have the connection with Vision she would have in 2023, or even in two years from now. However, even now, they were closer to each other than anyone else.

“So Vision has to die, too?” she asked.

Steve nodded. "Yeah, unless we get the Stone out of him and hand it over to Thanos."

“You mean give Thanos the Stone, let half the universe die, just so you can have this battle in 2023?” Wanda’s eyes widened. “You can’t do that!”

“Wanda,” Vision said, voice soft.

"No!" she snapped, holding up a hand. "You can't sacrifice all those billions of lives, Vision and Natasha's life, just to save one person. It's not right.”

"Damn right, it's not," Clint said.

Bucky and Tony exchanged a look laden with meaning, and Steve could almost see the words written across their faces— _We shouldn’t have told them what we’re doing here._

Selfishly, Steve agreed. He wasn’t taking the fate of the world lightly, he would regret each and every life that would be lost for those five years, and Natasha and Vision’s even more, but this had to be the right thing to do.

“I’ve got to say, I’m with them,” Sam said. “I get his kid is special, and you all seem to really love him, which is great, but it’s too much to ask to save one life.”

“You don’t understand!” Tony growled. “Peter deserves this.”

“Does he?” Clint asked. “How can anyone deserve that? It’s the universe, Tony. I’m a father, too, and I’d do anything for my kids, but you’re asking too much for one person.”

“You wouldn’t do it for Cooper?” Tony asked. “Or Lila or Nathaniel?”

Clint gritted his teeth and didn’t answer.

Steve looked at the faces around him, and he saw the rift growing. Just as they had last time, the fracture lines were showing. It would be different this time; it would be those from 2023, and perhaps Rhodey, against the others. They would break apart, and this time it would be worse. They would be fighting to save Peter while the others fought in the opposite direction. This would be so much worse than what had happened before. 

He looked at Tony and knew that he could see the same rift growing. Tony seemed angry about it, his eyes hardening and teeth-gritting.

“One future in which he lives,” Sam said thoughtfully.

“Exactly!” Tony snapped. “One, against all odds. One that’s got to happen unless we can pull our plan off for the battle.”

"Yeah, but it's still one future." Sam shrugged. "What if that one future is stopping the battle altogether? That was your plan, right? To save Peter in a different way. We were going to stop Thanos from getting the stones, stopping that huge battle you told us about in 2023. That would save Peter, too."

“But that battle is coming,” Tony said. “The Ancient One said so.”

"Yeah, but is it set in stone?"

Clint clapped his hands once and nodded. “Yes! See, you’re all going about this the wrong way. Sure, you want to save this kid’s life—”

“Peter’s!” Tony snapped.

“Okay, yeah, Peter’s,” Clint agreed. “But what if you could save the whole world doing it: stop Thanos getting the Stones, stop Peter needing to snap, stop this whole thing happening. No one needs to die at all.”

Wanda nodded. “I think he’s right.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply, eyes angry, but Vision spoke first.

"I am not unwilling to die for this cause. My life was happenstance anyway; I would not have existed if not for Ultron. If my death is going to protect someone else, I am happy to give my life, and I do believe Peter Parker should be protected, but I think it's too heavy a fate for a universe to save one life." He looked at Tony. "You created those parameters in me to defend life. That is what is guiding me now. I think it’s too much to ask to allow Thanos’ plan to come into fruition in order to save Peter later.”

Clint snapped his fingers. “Thanks, Vision. Wanda, you with me?”

Wanda nodded. "I am. I know Peter is good because I remember what he did for Pietro and me, but his life is one against billions."

Tony cursed under his breath and rubbed his temples. “You don’t understand!”

"I think it's you that doesn't understand," Clint said. "You're all blinded by this kid. I get it, I would be, too, if he was one of mine, but you are asking too much."

Bucky got to his feet and walked away, hands fisted and fresh drops of blood dripping from his scraped knuckles to the floor as the wounds were manipulated.

“Would Peter want this?” Sam asked. “If he’s as good as you say—and all evidence points to the fact he is from what he did for us, coming back to our past to change things—is he going to want all that death to save him?”

“He doesn’t get a choice!” Bucky roared, rounding on him. “We get to choose!”

Sam looked a little startled by the show of fury from Bucky, a bit wary.

Steve got quickly to his feet and went to place a hand on Bucky’s heaving chest, murmuring, “Take it easy, Buck.”

“He should have a choice,” Wanda said. “It’s his life that so many will be sacrificed for.” 

Clint got to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. "Look, I'll lay it down for you; I'm not letting you do this. I've got three kids, and I don't want them left in a world where half their friends and family have died. I won't do it."

Steve shifted uncomfortably, and Natasha looked down at her lap. Steve was sure they were thinking the same thing—Clint's children would not be left in that world as they would die, too.

“I’m sorry, I am, but I’m with Clint,” Sam said.

“So are we,” Wanda said, gesturing between herself and Vision.

“And since we’ve got Vision, we’ve got the Stone,” Clint said, a touch of smugness in his tone.

“I’m truly sorry,” Vision said. “I can’t agree with you, Tony. I will take the Stone from your reach and—” He cut off, bowed over with a groan, and pressed his hands to his face.

Steve gasped as Tony leaped to his feet, Peter's name on his lips.

Vision made another sound of pain then straightened up, his eyes the yellow shade of Mind.

Tony’s hands shook as he pressed them to his chest and said, “Mind, how is he?”

"Peter is stronger now," Mind said, making Steve breathe a sigh of relief, and Bucky made a strange choked laughing sound. “He has separated himself with Time and Reality to give himself time to heal and build strength to talk to you.”

“You mean he’s disconnected himself from the machines!” Tony asked, eyes wide. “He can’t do that! He needs them!”

“No,” Mind said. “Though some of the machines have been removed by Helen Cho as he does not need them. He is breathing unassisted now. Peter has just created a bubble between himself and the people with him. For him, time is passing, though no one else is aware of that. In the timeline of 2023, you have been gone for two hours."

Tony sighed out a breath and massaged his chest, right over his heart. If his body was reacting the same as Steve’s, his heart was racing. 

“Why are you here?” Clint asked. “You coming to weigh in on either side of this argument?”

Mind’s eyes became downcast. “I am.” He looked to Tony. “You can’t avert the battle. It is set in stone.”

Tony grinned. “So _our_ plan”—he gestured between himself, Steve, and Bucky—"is the right one.”

“No.” Mind rubbed his forehead. “The Battle of Wakanda will come. The Battle of Earth will come. What you must do is make sure Peter Parker is the one that snaps.”

“Wait, what?” Bucky said, advancing a step. “What the hell is the point of us being here if we’ve got to make that happen? It’s already happened! Why are we here if not to stop it?”

“Because there is a force here working against that outcome,” Mind said. “Ego has taken a vessel, they are now Nemesis, and Peter’s timeline is being changed by them. Time cannot see the path, but the outcome of that battle is adjusting and changing in ways we cannot allow because Peter is being attacked.”

“Nemesis is attacking Peter?” Tony asked, eyes wide.

“They are attacking his path,” Mind said. “We do not know exactly what they’re trying to do, but the thing that made us choose Peter is varying. He may not be Worthy when the battle comes because of the intervention of Nemesis. “

“And that means?” Sam asked.

"If he is unworthy when he snaps, it means the world will be saved, but Peter will die."

Tony made a sound of pain and breathed hard through his nose. “We can’t let that happen. I _won’t_ let that happen.”

"Good," Mind said. "Because _that_ is why you're here. Peter sent you to guide his path. He knows he's under attack, that the future he created may be forfeit, and that’s why he returned you with Time. He is relying on you to prevent that from happening." He took a breath, massaged his temples, and said, "The path Peter has traveled, the person he was at the moment he snapped, is what made him Worthy. We do not know what Nemesis is doing as we cannot see them. We're blind to their path, so you have to be on your guard. Let Peter’s path progress as it did before, support and guide him, and hope that he is the right person at the moment it matters.”

Steve was nodding, processing what he was hearing, but Tony was clearly struggling with something as he was fisting and relaxing his hands and his eyes were distant.

“We’ve got to let it all happen again?” Bucky asked. “He’s got to die on Titan, he’s got to have a building dropped on him, go through all that pain _again_?”

Mind looked equally as distressed, but he nodded. “Each of those experiences shaped who Peter is. They have to be allowed to happen. You will be here with him, you can support him and love him as that will only make him stronger, will build him towards being the person he needs to be, but the events that came also made him Worthy, and they must happen.”

“You can’t be serious,” Tony snapped. “We’ve got to let all that crap with Toomes happen? I’ve got to see him die in my arms again? I've got to live for five years without him?"

Mind’s eyes were mournful as he replied. “Yes. I know this is a heavy burden for you, and Peter knows that, too, but you must do it. He did not make the decision to send you here lightly. You must know that he did it to save his life and others. If Peter is unworthy, he will die, and others will never be returned to life.” His voice became soft. “I know this is going to be hard for you, Mr. Stark, but it’s what Peter needs from you.”

Tony nodded, jaw tight, and said, “Fine. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“We all have to,” Steve said. “If it’s all those things that make him Worthy of the Stones, we’ve got to let them happen to save his life when it matters.”

Mind nodded. “If you love him, you will let him suffer for a time now to save his life later.”

“This isn’t right,” Bucky said through his teeth. “You’re the Infinity Stones! You get to choose whether or not he’s worthy—you can decide when it matters. You can’t let him die.”

Mind's lips turned down. "You love Peter, we know, and so do we, though love is perhaps not the right word for it as we are not in any way human. We value Peter in a way that is beyond the human ability to love. If we could save him, choose him as Worthy, we would. The thought of losing him distressed us all." His lips quirked slightly. "You should be glad Power is not able to connect to you now as he is angrier than I have ever seen. He cares deeply for Peter."

“Power can go to hell,” Bucky snapped. “You all can. You’re the ones that are going to kill him if he’s not good enough for you.”

“He _is_ good enough!” Mind said, his eyes narrowed. “It is not something we can decide, though. The circumstances were unique before. He either is Worthy or isn’t.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It is down to all of you to make sure he is. You have the power here. If you love Peter—”

“We do!” Bucky shouted. 

“Then it should be easy for you to do what’s right,” Mind finished. "His life is in your hands now, not ours. Make him the person he was before, see him through this journey, and in seven years, you will return to the time and place you belong with the Peter that you love. Fail, and you will return to a world without him, Natasha, or Mind."

Clint frowned. “So, to give Nat another chance at life, we’ve got to watch half the universe die, watch her die, and let this kid suffer?”

"Yes," Mind said. "In particular circumstances, at least. Peter has suffered before and come through it; he can again. You have a chance to alter other things, though. You have already changed things, Mr. Stark. You took Peter as an intern earlier than before, changed his path, and…" He smiled fondly. "You already changed his life for the better. And you, Sergeant Barnes, have given him an interaction which, though he is blind to who you are now, has pleased him in 2023 because he knew that meeting came from love.”

Steve’s eyes snapped to Bucky. “You’ve seen Peter?”

Bucky held up a hand. “I’ll tell you later.” He addressed Mind. “But Peter’s okay. In 2023, I mean, he’s okay now?”

"He is healing," Mind said. "He is enjoying the flow of changes that this time is taking to him. You know how it worked for you when he visited, what you saw; Peter is experiencing that now. You're making him happy."

Bucky nodded, smiled, and then his face fell. “But if we mess this up, I’ll never have a future relationship with him, will I? I won’t have a chance to be with him then, to know him the same way.”

“You won’t,” Mind agreed. “So I suggest you pour all your energy into supporting him now.” He rubbed his temples. “I cannot stay. Peter is weary. I will come back when I can, but I don’t think you’ll need me again. You know what you have to do now. Love him, support him, guide him—”

“And hope for the best?” Tony asked, the words harsh.

Mind’s lips turned down again. “Yes. We believe you can do this. Peter believes you can do this. He chose you for a reason and kept Colonel Rhodes with him for a reason. He kept someone he loves and trusts there to protect the people left behind, and he sent the strongest fighters, the people he believes can do this, back to help him." He gave his head a small shake. "Yes, I'm coming." He lifted a hand to his and then collapsed forward. Wanda caught him, leaned him back against the couch, and held his hand as he recovered.

“You back, Vis?” Tony asked.

Vision nodded, opened his eyes, and said, “Did you get the message he was trying to impart?”

"Yes," Clint said bitterly. "We've still got to watch the universe suffer, and the kid might die anyway, so you and Nat are doomed. We got the damn message." 

Vision nodded, then looked between Tony, Bucky, Steve, and Natasha. "Peter has a message for you, too."

Tony’s head snapped up. “Yeah? Is he okay? What’s he saying?”

Vision smiled. "He says, thank you."

Tony huffed an uncomfortable laugh. “Thank you. We’ve got to let it all play out, risk watching him die, and he says thank you.”

“Yes,” Vision said. “And he said something else.”

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, what’s that?”

Vision’s voice was soft as he replied, and it held all the regret Steve guessed he’d heard from Peter. “He says he’s sorry.”

Tony turned away. “Yeah. Sorry. Great.”

Steve understood Tony’s feelings as he felt the same. They couldn’t protect Peter from the Stones or the trauma he’d told them about from Toomes. They couldn’t save the universe from five years of pain. They had to guide Peter through the next two years and hope and pray that he was worthy at the end of it.

If they didn’t, if he wasn’t, they would watch him die. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… They know what they've got to do. This ends the introductory arc of the story. There will be a lot more Peter time from here on out, and we'll start building that found family I love to write.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday!  
> You’ve made it this far, you can make it to the weekend. I have faith ;-)

Tony adjusted his tie, took a breath, and then entered the conference room. Rhodey was behind him, and the rest of the Avengers followed.

This was the first of the meetings they'd asked for to renegotiate the Accords. They were prepared for a lot of them, as they knew it would be a slow process. Tony hoped it was done by September, or at least that he had permission to act in emergencies by then, as otherwise there was a ferry full of people in danger, which he _apparently_ had to let play out for the sake of his son’s life.

Just another punch to the gut he would have to face in the fall, which would be followed by the pain of taking Peter’s suit and leaving him even more vulnerable against Toomes.

If not for the task that Peter and Mind had laid on them, Tony would have Toomes arrested already. He would shut his scheme down and never let him within an inch of Peter. But, no, he had to watch it happen, for the whole thing to traumatize his son, because that was apparently one of the things that made him worthy.

They were already working against Nemesis, though, at least as much as they could. They knew Josef was involved somehow, and they suspected Zemo, so Tony had Friday running a program searching for either of them in all public and private surveillance networks. He was breaking a few laws to do it, but he didn’t care.

He could not protect Peter from what was coming for him from Toomes of Thanos, but he was going to do everything he could to make him worthy when it mattered, and that meant taking Josef and Zemo out of the equation before Ego could put them to use against his son.

Lost in his thoughts of Peter and the future, and only giving the occupants of the room the scantest attention, Tony was surprised when his eyes fell on T’Challa sitting at the table, wearing a black suit and pensive expression.

“King T’Challa,” he said. “I didn’t expect you.”

T’Challa nodded. “Technically, I am still not crowned king as we have not held the ceremony—that is happening next week. I thought the topic at hand was important enough for me to come from preparations for a day, though.”

“It’s an honor to have you here,” Steve said.

T’Challa nodded, smiled slightly, and watched as they all came in and took their seats around the long table. Tony took in the faces, seeing Ross sitting at the head of the table, directly opposite Steve, and the representatives from Great Britain, Australia, Germany, Kenya, and Russia across the table from their seats. These were just a handful of the countries represented, and Tony knew they would have another ceremony with all countries before the hoped-for changes could be ratified.

Ross shuffled a sheaf of papers and said, “Well, we all know why we’re here,” his mouth set as if he tasted something bad. “I think it would be better to hear what the Avengers think they need before we begin negotiations.”

Steve cleared his throat. “What we think we need is that what all human rights say we deserve: a fair jury trial for any transgressions instead of automatic imprisonment and appropriate imprisonment terms instead of life.”

“We also want the freedom to act in an emergency,” Tony said. “We can’t be tethered by rules if it comes at the cost of innocent lives.”

T’Challa rubbed his chin thoughtfully and nodded. The other representatives looked less impressed, though, and Ross was smiling smugly.

“What do you believe counts as an emergency?” Bennett, the British representative, asked in his accented voice. "Would the situation in Lagos have required action without permission?"

Wanda shifted in her seat and cast her eyes down.

“Lagos was a mission,” Steve said stiffly. “We were there to stop a powerful threat, Brock Rumlow, ending a multitude of lives. The emergency came when he was revealed to be wearing a suicide vest. If we’d waited for permission before acting against him, a lot more people would have died.”

“Enough died,” Ross said, casting T’Challa a pointed look.

“Which was my fault,” Wanda said. “I regret those deaths more than you can possibly imagine.”

Ross smirked. “No more than King T’Challa and his people regret the deaths of their countrymen, I imagine. I assume the deceased had families, King T’Challa?”

T’Challa nodded. “They did.”

Wanda cast her eyes down at the tabletop again.

“The bomb was an emergency,” Steve said. “And we all regret what happened. We accept that we could have waited for permission to be invited into Nigeria to stop Rumlow when the intelligence of his plan reached us, but we could not have waited in the actual moment the threat presented itself.”

“You could have handled it differently,” Bennett said.

“Perhaps,” Steve said. “Decisions have to be made in a split-second in circumstances like that. That’s what Wanda did. That is what we all would have done in the moment. It is what we all would do if another threat presented itself. We should not face lifelong imprisonment for trying to save lives.”

“Tell me, Mr. Rogers, are you expecting another threat?” Vasily, the Russian representative, asked.

“Previous experience tells me to always expect a threat,” Steve said.

“You sound rather paranoid, Captain,” Ross said, a malicious gleam in his eyes. 

“I call it learning from my mistakes,” Steve said.

Ross adjusted his papers again and said, “The thing you must understand, all of you, is that your actions have consequences. If you are not facing appropriate punishment for your mistakes, there will be no reason for you to be careful.”

“The imprisonment rule is non-negotiable,” Vasily said.

Tony sighed and massaged his temples. A headache was building behind his eyes already, and he thought they had hours of this ahead of them, and that was just today. They were going to go back and forth on this for weeks, at least. 

If not for the fact he _needed_ to be able to act for the ferry incident, he would have walked out, said it didn’t matter, and then dealt with Thanos and faced the rebuke after. There would be no dire consequences for them anyway. Steve and the others had been outlaws, but that was soon forgiven when the fight came and they faced it. The Avengers were needed, and the sooner these assholes accepted that, the better things would be.

“Then our signing is out of the question,” Steve said. “We will not give up our rights to appease you when we all know our freedom to act is vital and…”

Tony let his mind wander to the time he'd spent with Peter on Saturday, how good that had felt, and ignored Ross' eyes, which he could feel boring into him. Ross could go to hell. They all could. Tony was going to be selfish awhile and let Steve handle the politics.

xXx

When the meeting finally came to a close, three hours later, with nothing decided and not an inch given on either side, Tony breathed a sigh of relief and watched the UN representatives file from the room with Ross at the head, his smug voice echoing back to them.

Only one of them remained seated, and that was T’Challa. He had refused Ross’ offer to chaperone him back to his jet, saying he wanted to speak to the Avengers about something first. Ross had not seemed curious, which struck Tony as strange, but he didn’t waste more of his time thinking about Ross than he had to. 

When the last of them were gone, Steve gave T’Challa an appraising glance and asked, “Did you want to speak to us, King T’Challa?”

“Just T’Challa is fine,” he said. “I am not your king. And yes, I do wish to speak to you, all of you, if I may.”

“Of course,” Tony said, sitting up straight. “What do you need?”

T'Challa rubbed his chin, then leaned forwards and said, "You may not have noticed, but I was watching you at the ceremony in Vienna."

“We noticed,” Natasha said.

Tony certainly hadn’t, but if any of them were going to, it would be Natasha.

“What did you notice, T’Challa?” Tony asked.

T’Challa’s eyes became speculative. “You were expecting something. Even before the gunman showed himself, you were on guard. I wish to ask you, was the shooting an arranged intervention by the Avengers so Miss Maximoff could save my father and therefore paint you in a good light?”

Tony sucked in a breath, heart racing. He’d not imagined T’Challa would have drawn that conclusion, no matter what he noticed. However, from an outside and uninformed perspective, it did make sense. None of them would ever have been so reckless or underhand to do it, but some people would.

“No,” Steve said stiffly. “You have my word that we did not. None of us even expected the shooting, let alone arranged it.”

T’Challa nodded. “I believe you. However, you were expecting something to happen. You did not bring all of your forces into the conference; some of you remained outside and came in at the opportune moment. Why is that?”

Steve looked at Tony and raised an eyebrow. Tony held up a finger and considered. He wasn’t sure what to do. They could tell T’Challa the truth, he could be an asset to them, but he was unlikely to believe them. Who would? It had taken the proof of the earthquake to convince Pepper, and the others had met Mind, and some of them Peter, before they believed. 

“Time travel,” Natasha said baldly. “Steve, Tony, and I are here from 2023.”

T’Challa frowned. “And you knew my father was going to be shot?”

He did not dispute her statement, merely asked a question, which shocked Tony as he expected incredulity or at least doubt.

“You believe us?”

T’Challa shook his head. “I do not believe you, and I do not doubt you. I have not yet seen if you’re telling the truth. I would like to know more, though.”

Natasha shot Tony a glance, and he nodded. They had nothing to lose by telling him.

“The last time we lived through these weeks, your father was killed in an explosion,” Tony said. “An enemy called Helmut Zemo planted a bomb while disguising himself as James Barnes. You might have heard of him. He was the—”

“Winter Soldier,” T’Challa said. “Yes. I know of him. But it was not him that planted the bomb?”

“No, Zemo was wearing a Photostatic Veil that looked like him. He wanted to frame Bucky—James Barnes—for the attack to bring him out of hiding. His overall plan was to use what he knew to tear apart the Avengers in revenge for what happened in Sokovia. That ultimately happened before. This time we have averted it by changing things that happened before. Instead of some of us signing the Accords and others not, we all agreed to not sign them until changes could be made.”

“I see,” T’Challa said. “How, though, was my father killed by a heart attack this time, following an attempted assassination, when last time it was a bomb?”

“Because some things are locked in time," Steve said. "We were there to stop the bombing, save your father, and stop Bucky from being framed. We didn't need to stop Bucky being framed as the bomb was never set—Zemo's path was changed by someone else. But your father's death was set in stone as it made you the person you will be when greater threats come."

“And the shooting?” T’Challa asked.

"We don't know how or why that happened," Steve said. "There was no sign of a gunman there when we faced this before. Perhaps they were lying in wait, and the bomb came first, or perhaps their path was changed, too."

“We don’t think so, though,” Tony said. “Do you know who the gunman was yet?”

T'Challa narrowed his eyes. "I do, as do you, I think. Do you know his story?"

Tony nodded. "A friend that also lived through those days with us knew, and he told us."

T’Challa sighed. “N'Jadaka, Erik Stevens, Killmonger. He has many names. I got the full story of him from Zuri. It is a bitter fate to bear to know that my father did that and left a child fatherless, but the crime was great, and the honor of our people had been blemished." He nodded thoughtfully. "You know what Wakanda is, really, don't you?"

Tony nodded. “We know you’re not what you allow the outside world to believe, yes. We know your technological capabilities.”

“I see. Well, this is interesting, but you could know the truth of Wakanda and the story of what happened from N’Jadaka himself. How can I know you’re not part of his plot?”

“You can’t,” Tony said. “But if you can wait a month, you will see proof. There is going to be a hurricane that will devastate Haiti. Over five hundred people will die.”

T’Challa frowned. “You live with that knowledge, the cost of all those lives, truly?”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “We live with even worse knowledge than that. Yes, we know deaths are coming in two weeks, and there will be more all over the world until 2018 when the real threat comes, but there’s nothing we can do.”

“And what is the real threat?” T’Challa asked.

“An alien called Thanos,” Tony said, the words bitter in his mouth. “He is going to come at the end of May 2018, and he will kill half the universe’s population—you included.”

If T’Challa was shocked, he did not show it. He merely nodded to himself and said, “And you all, I assume, survive and somehow are sent back from 2023 to stop it.”

Tony shook his head. “No. Though I wish more than anything that it was that. We’ve been sent back to let it all happen, watch it all happen, because nothing we can do will change it.” He glanced at Vision and said, “Any chance Mind’s going to make an appearance to explain?”

Vision shook his head. “Not that I’m aware. I have felt no intrusion.”

Tony sighed. “Do you want to hear this, T’Challa? Or do you want to wait two weeks to know we’re telling the truth before we fill you in?”

T’Challa steepled his fingers under his chin. “I think I would like to hear it now, without the assurance of certainty. It will be a more open-minded experience.”

“Go ahead, Cap,” Tony said. “I’ve said and heard it too many times lately.”

Steve nodded, leaned forwards, and said, "Thanos is a Titan, and he's searching for the six Infinity Stones…"

xXx

T’Challa nodded as Steve finished and said, “And there is a person who will send you back with the Time Stone.”

“The most powerful person in the universe,” Tony said, pride in his voice. “My son.”

“He will send you back to ensure he suffers through those experiences again, his death and the death of half of the universe, for what end?”

“Because he has to be worthy,” Steve said bitterly. “Whatever else happens, half the universe is going to die, some of us will die, and the battle will come on their return. We will win the battle. All that we don’t know is if it will kill Peter to do it.”

Tony bowed his head and swallowed down the horror. The fact the battle and outcome were locked was a relief, it meant they would win, but the idea of losing his son almost brought him to his knees. He couldn’t imagine living in a world without Peter again. It had been hard the first time, sometimes almost drowning him in the pain, but this time it would destroy him.

He looked around the room, seeing the pain in Steve, the sadness in Natasha and Rhodey—those who knew Peter—and the serious expressions of those that did not yet know Peter but knew what he would become. It burned Tony to witness it. His son, his wonderful, brave, and worthy son, could be a casualty of that battle because he wanted to save the world.

Tony sometimes dreamed of that battle, remembering how he felt to see Peter lying on that battlefield, the cursed gauntlet on his arm, and he remembered the horror he’d felt, on his hands and knees, not knowing if he was alive. That would happen again, and the outcome may not be the overwhelming relief of seeing Peter’s chest move with Steve’s intervention.

Peter might be dead.

“I can see this is a difficult topic for you,” T’Challa said, eyes moving to Tony. “A torturous one for you, Mr. Stark. I am sorry for your pain.”

“Thanks,” Tony muttered.

“Do you believe us?” Steve asked.

T’Challa considered his answer carefully. “I cannot believe or disbelieve. I can tell you all believe this to be the truth, but the idea is incredible to me. However, as regent and protector of my people, I must take the threat seriously. You say I cannot change things?”

“You can’t,” Steve said. “Some things are locked, and those events are among them. We have to live through them to get to the future we’re wishing for.”

“Then it is nothing for me to do but wait,” T’Challa said.

“No,” Tony said. “You can prepare. Wakanda is going to be invaded by Thanos’ army in 2018, and your people will be fighting here with us in 2023. You can commit to making them the very best warriors they can be.”

T’Challa’s lips quirked with a smile. “Okoye would argue that they already are, but I concede your point. I will have them train and prepare, though I will not tell them what they are preparing for. I can see in your eyes that this is a heavy burden to live with, and I will not force that upon them, too.”

"Something you need to be aware of," Tony said, pushing aside his selfish sadness for a moment. "Killmonger had a plan in place to depose you. I know he is jailed now, but he does technically have a claim to the throne. If he is freed and comes to you…"

"I will make sure that does not happen," T'Challa said. "Not for myself—if I am to lose my place as king, then I will—but for my people. I will ensure that he is moved from Austria to Wakanda to face punishment. Can you tell me anything else that is coming for Wakanda?"

“We can’t tell you it all,” Steve said, seeming to be considering something. “But if you give us your word that you will not expose his location, we can introduce you to someone that heard the full history from you.”

T’Challa smiled slightly. “Am I to assume the Winter Soldier is here?”

“His name is Bucky,” Tony said, a slight edge to his tone. “And yes.”

T'Challa nodded. "Then, by all means, bring him to me. I would like to hear the full story, and perhaps I can offer something in return."

Steve glanced at Tony, seeming to be checking for agreement, and Tony nodded. He trusted T’Challa. “I’ll go get him,” he said, then slipped out of the room.

Tony watched him go and felt a small pang of hope. If they could get T’Challa on their side, and he seemed to be coming around to them, perhaps he could help them with their mission to have Bucky pardoned as well as with The Accords.

xXx

Bucky was sitting between Tony and Steve, his eyes wary as he finished filling T’Challa in on the story of what had happened—what perhaps still might happen if those events were locked—to his country.

“Well,” T’Challa said as Bucky finished. “That is quite the story.”

“And it’s true,” Bucky said. “I would not lie to you. I know you cannot understand, but I owe Wakanda a great debt.”

“From what you have said, I agree that you do,” T’Challa said. He looked down at his folded hands a moment, brow furrowed with thought. “I can perhaps add another pre-emptive debt. I can offer you a place in Wakanda where you can live free while your friends pursue their mission to have you pardoned. You could be free to go outdoors among nature, to live in peace, without these walls around you.”

Tony looked at Bucky, wondering what he would say. It would be a tempting offer, as Tony knew Bucky had been happy in Wakanda, but he didn’t particularly want to lose his presence with them. He would miss him.

Bucky didn’t hesitate before shaking his head. “Thanks for the offer, I really do appreciate it, but I can’t leave New York.”

“Because you cannot be parted from the boy you love?” T’Challa asked.

“Yes,” Bucky said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not leaving Peter.”

“I get that you want to be close, Buck, but this would be better,” Steve said. “It’s not safe for you here. If someone sees you, we can’t stop them from locking you up.”

“No,” Bucky said defiantly. “I’m not leaving.”

Tony sighed. “But you know you can’t see Peter again. It’s not safe for you to be out there yet.”

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m still not going.”

“Because you think you can see him again?” Tony guessed.

He saw it was the truth from the look of longing in Bucky’s eyes, but his answer was a steady, “I know I can’t.”

“The offer remains open if you change your mind,” T’Challa said. “And with that, I will take my leave. I will await the proof you have promised, and if it comes, I will make myself available for further discussion.” He looked between Tony and Steve and said, “If that proof does come, you have my word that I will commit myself to changing the Accords in your favor. I do not think the Avengers should be shackled while this threat is approaching. However, I do not know if my voice will be heard by the other representatives when there are many against you.”

“We know,” Tony said with a heavy feeling in his gut. “But we’re committed to fighting them.”

T’Challa nodded. “As you know, I have a stake in this, too. Just because it is unknown to outsiders now, it does not mean The Black Panther would not be under these rules, too, if it became public knowledge.” He got to his feet. “Thank you for sharing your story. As little as I want to believe so great a threat is coming, I will not be surprised if that proof does come.”

“It will,” Steve said heavily. “And believe me, we all wish it wouldn’t.”

T’Challa accepted Steve’s offer to see him out, and they left the room, leaving Tony with his head in his hands, feeling the weight of everything that had happened and been shared. Sometimes he could live along with the knowledge that he might lose Peter, but this was not one of those times. He had two days until he would see him again, and he was sure those days would drag out.

The time without his children always dragged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… T’Challa knows. He doesn’t believe, not yet, but he knows. He’s a character I will be returning to soon, even though he’s a tough one to write. I know I promised Peter, and he will be here in the next chapter. We’ll have his first PoV of 2016.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the weekend!  
> I've noticed I've got less familiar names in my comments each update. I hope I've not lost you as readers. I know sometimes we just have nothing to say. Thank you all for your patience with me and the story. We FINALLY have a Peter PoV in this chapter. I know it’s been a long time coming, but I promise there is going to be so much more Peter now the world is established.

Peter was late to get to lunch as Mr. Harrington had held him back after class to talk about an assignment Peter had done. He'd been worried at first, thinking he'd messed it up, which he shouldn't have done as it was chemistry which he was good at. However, it was merely a pep talk about keeping grades solid before finals—which he was—and more praise on his science fair project, which Peter was sure would have been forgotten if not for Tony Stark’s reaction.

With relief and a rumbling stomach, he thanked Mr. Harrington, then fled the room, ran along the halls to the cafeteria where he joined the last of the line to get his lunch. It was Salisbury steak day, and he grimaced as it was slopped onto his plate by Mrs. Greene, the cafeteria lady. He grabbed a roll and carton of milk then carried it over to his and Ned’s table.

Ned was waiting for him, scooping up his food with a fork and turning the pages of a Captain America comic with the other hand. He looked up as Peter sat down, prodded his fork into his food, and said, “It’s good.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Ned shrugged. “It’s been worse. It’s nothing on my mom’s cooking, of course, but nothing is. This is totally edible. Only a little greasy aftertaste.”

Peter grimaced and began to eat. It was bad, but not as bad as some of May’s cooking, so it was edible. He’d heard they were looking for a new cook for the school, but Mrs. Greene had been at the school for forty years, and the faculty felt bad about dumping her. It would be a mercy to all students, though, as her skills had deteriorated with age. 

He wouldn’t have eaten it at all if not for the fact he’d keel over from low blood sugar if he didn’t. The spider bite had given him crazy hunger pangs with his metabolism ramped up so much. He was better about it now, though. He kept a bag of dried fruit and nuts in his bag to snack on between meals.

Everything after the bite was an adjustment, learning his new body and improved health. May made him go to the ophthalmologist to find out why he said he no longer needed his glasses. The eye doctor had said it was natural but rare, something to do with puberty. Peter thought he was talking crap as he’d never heard of it before, but he wasn’t complaining. Nor was he complaining about the fact his asthma had seemed to clear right up.

Those changes became so much more immense when he decided he would use the effects of the bite to help people. Spider-Man had been born, and Peter started on the adventure of a lifetime. He felt bad about keeping it from everyone he loved, but he just thought it was better kept a secret. After Ben, after his failure, he didn’t want them to know what he’d let happen.

“So, you want to come over after school?” Ned asked. “I’ve got that Avengers game we’ve not beaten yet.”

“I can’t,” Peter said, biting his lip to hide his smile. “I’ve got to see May after school. Her friend is picking me up again.”

That was the excuse he’d used to explain the sleek black Audi that picked him up from school once a week and came at weekends to drive him to Avengers Tower.

“Dude,” Ned groaned. “I hardly see you outside school anymore. You’re always with May or studying. I know you, Peter, you don’t need to study that hard unless you’ve changed your mind about testing into college. And if you have, I’ve got a few things to say since I’ll be the one left here alone with _Flash_!”

“I’m not testing into college,” Peter said. “I’m…”

He bit his lip.

He'd been keeping the internship to himself for a month now because he wasn't sure it was going to last. He didn't want Ned to get all excited and proud, then find out Peter messed up and lost it. It just seemed impossible that something so cool could happen to Peter and actually last. He kept expecting to get a call from Tony, or maybe it’d just be an email, telling him the arrangement was over, that he'd gotten what he needed from him and no longer needed to waste his time with Peter.

But it had been a month, and Tony showed no signs he was tired of Peter. He’d not even messed up. He had helped Tony with a prosthetic arm he was building for an amputee, and came up with a new way to manipulate the joints, and Tony seemed impressed.

Maybe now was the time.

“What are you hiding, Peter?” Ned asked, lines of hurt around his mouth.

Peter took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll tell you, but you can’t start screaming—”

“As if I would,” Ned scoffed.

“And you can’t tell anyone. No one would believe me apart from you, especially not Flash, and I don’t want people calling me a liar.”

Ned frowned. “What’s this about?”

Peter dropped his voice. “After the science fair, Tony Stark came to our apartment to speak to May. He wanted to offer me an internship with him. May said yes, so he asked me. I said yes, obviously, so now I’m his personal intern.”

Ned made a small squeaking sound, and his mouth dropped open.

Peter allowed himself a smile. “Yeah.”

“Dude… You… And… Wow!” he whispered.

Relieved by his quiet reaction, Peter nodded and felt a wave of relief and happiness at finally making this real by telling his best friend. He’d wanted to from the beginning, but it would have been awful to then have to tell him he lost it.

His relief quickly faded and was replaced by mortification as Ned shouted. “You’re Tony’s Stark’s—”

Peter clapped his hand over Ned’s mouth, making the last word muffled, and his eyes bugged. “Ned, no!”

Ned shook his head behind Peter's hand, his eyes immediately horrified, but it was too late; the damage was done.

“You’re Tony Stark’s what?” Flash asked, sidling over to their table, shoving away Peter’s lunch, making the gravy slop over the tray, and dropping his bag down. “Stalker? Number one fan? Secret love child? No, even that’s too big a lie for Parker. So, tell me, penis, what little lie have you just told your chubby friend to make him react like this?”

“Nothing,” Peter said, dropping his hand from Ned’s mouth. “We were just talking about something I saw on the news.”

Flash scoffed. "You watch the news? Everyone knows SpongeBob Square Pants is your limit." His eyes drifted to Michelle, who was sitting at the end of their table. "You been filling him in on world events, Jones? What are you protesting this week? Climate change, capitalism, or is it maybe the Accords? I bet shackling superheroes is your kind of thing." He pointed a finger at her. "That's pretty selfish when you live in Queens, which Spider-Man protects."

Michelle lowered her paperback book, looked him up and down, then raised one finger, flipping him off.

Not able to get the argument and attention he needed from her, he turned back to Peter and Ned. “Well, penis, chubs, which is it? My money’s on stalker.”

“Nothing,” Peter said, color flushing his cheeks. “I’m nothing to Tony Stark.”

“Damn right,” Flash said, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “You’re nothing to anyone. Don’t forget it.”

He strode back to his friends, who were laughing and nudging his shoulder with approval.

“I’m so sorry,” Ned whispered. “I just lost control. I was overwhelmed. I’m the world’s worst friend. You want to punch me? You can. Or I can do it for you.”

He actually fisted his hand and posed it in front of his nose. Peter grabbed his hand and pushed it down, careful not to grip too tight and hurt him with his enhanced strength.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I should have been more careful when I told you. It’s big news, I guess. I’d have probably reacted the same.”

“Big news? Dude, it’s huge news. This is the coolest thing to happen to either of us since… No, it’s the coolest thing to happen to us _ever_! I can’t believe it. What’s it like? What’s he like? What do you do?”

Peter grinned and kept his voice low. “I've been going twice a week for a month, so we've done all kinds of things. He showed me the War Machine armor he's working on, and we looked at his Mark XLVI last week. He says he's hoping to work with something called nanites, so he can create a suit that would live in housing until he needed it, then it'd spread over him like bleeding armor. It's the coolest thing I ever saw."

“Wow,” Ned breathed. “This is crazy. All that because of my nanna’s stroke.”

Peter grinned. “Yeah, he said he saw something in what I made, and then, well, I guess he hacked the school records. I…” He shrugged. “I wanted to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how long it would last. He’s like _Tony Stark_ , and I’m just Peter. I kept waiting for him to change his mind. And he probably will. He knows people way smarter than me. He’s got all these graduate student interns.”

Ned frowned. “Yeah, that’s true, but you’re a genius, too, Peter. He obviously sees something special in you.”

“Maybe,” Peter said.

That was the crazy part—Peter thought Ned might be right. He wasn’t sure it was possible Tony saw in him, but he seemed to genuinely enjoy being with him. He was happy when he was around, always telling Peter how brilliant he was. Peter didn’t understand it, because he was smart, yeah, but Tony Stark was _the_ genius. He made the most amazing things, had freed himself from captivity with a suit he built in a cave from scraps.

Peter had none of those achievements. All that made him different from any other smart kid in his school was Spider-Man, but no one knew about that—not even Tony, though Peter was starting to think he should tell him. Tony didn't seem to hold anything back from him, and Peter was hiding something huge. But he was a little nervous about it. Spider-Man was small fry compared to Iron Man; he might think Spider-Man was silly.

Somehow, Peter didn't think so, though, not deep down. He thought Tony might actually be pleased to know.

Something else that held him back was that he thought Tony was pretty stressed, maybe with the Accords thing. On the second weekend he went to the Tower, Tony had seemed upset. Peter had seen it at once, and he’d offered to go home, but that seemed to make him even more upset. He’d gradually cheered up over the course of the day. In a way, Peter had felt he’d helped, being there, and that had felt good. 

He would tell him one day, he was sure, but maybe not yet. There was already so much else happening that he was loving. He would find the right time some other day. 

xXx

Tony paced up and down the lab, anxious energy rushing through him. Peter was due, Happy left to pick him up an hour ago, and he was eager for his arrival.

He always was.

In the weeks since The Ancient One had dropped the bomb of truth—or her truth, at least—on them, Tony had been struggling. He knew he'd slipped up the first time he saw Peter, made him uncomfortable. Peter had actually offered to go home. Tony had almost reached for him then, to hold him and ask him to never leave. He'd controlled himself, though. It was hard, though, to see Peter as he was, fourteen, alive, happy, free, and to know he might only have two years left of life to live.

Though he was determined to make the outcome the single good one among millions of bad, to save his son, he couldn’t deny he despaired sometimes. To face the loss of your child was hellish. It was so much worse this time than it had been before, when Peter turned to ash in his hands, because he loved him so much more now, impossibly more. Peter was a part of him the same way Pepper and Morgan were.

Tony was the one that was supposed to have the blessing of being the one that died first, to not have to live without either of his children. That was the natural order of things. Now, they were fighting against overwhelming odds to make Peter the person he was before when there was someone out there working to do the opposite.

“Boss, Peter is just passing through security in the lobby,” Friday announced.

Tony released a deep breath of relief that the anticipation was over, Peter was on his way. He raked a hand over his face, checked his reflection in the glass wall, saw that he looked a little wired still, so he went to the counter to fix himself a smoothie. If Peter came in and saw him doing something so ordinary and relaxed, he would think Tony was totally cool about this whole thing.

At least he should.

He was pouring the carrot juice over the spinach and kale when the door beeped open, and Peter's cheery voice said, "Hey, Mr. Stark."

Tony took a breath, centered himself, then turned and said, “Peter, good to see you. How was the ride in?”

Peter dropped his bag onto the chair and hung up his hoodie, revealing a t-shirt with Yoda underneath. “It was fine for me, but I think Happy would be pleased if I started riding in on the subway. There was a lot of horn blasting on the boulevard, and he got angry that someone tried to overtake him on the Triborough.”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, for someone that started out as my driver and bodyguard, he’s not got a great temper on the road. It’s why I mostly ended up driving myself.”

Well, that and the fact he had a perfectly rational fear of car accidents, which was born from his parents' deaths. At least it came from what he had believed was his parents' deaths. It had not been a car accident, it had been murder, but that was Hydra's fault, not Bucky's. He saw that now and had for a while. He'd long since forgiven Bucky for what he'd been forced to do.

"I should get the subway in the future," Peter said, making his way over to the counter and tugging on the hem of his shirt. "I really don't mind. I know Happy isn’t supposed to be a driver anymore—he’s told me a bunch of times.”

“He shouldn’t have,” Tony said, a bite to his voice. “I’ll talk to him.”

“I really don’t—” Peter cut off as Tony held up a hand.

“I don’t want you riding the subway, Peter. All kinds of creeps are on there. Don’t tell me you’ve never met a licker.”

Peter frowned. “A licker?”

"Yeah. One time I used the subway, and I mean one time, and that was only because I lost my wallet and couldn't afford a cab with the change in my pocket, a man licked the back of my neck. Most disgusting thing to ever happen to me."

Peter bit his lip, his jaw working as if he was chewing something, and then Tony realized he was trying not to laugh. He’d not heard Peter laugh since he came back, not the full belly laughs he was used to, and he shook his head and chuckled.

It seemed to be the permission Peter needed to let loose, and he clutched his stomach as he howled with laughter. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry…” he said haltingly. “It’s just… you’re Tony Stark… and they licked you!”

“I know, I was there,” Tony said, laughing with him.

Peter's laughter slowed and became occasional chuckles. He wiped at his eyes, rubbing his stomach, and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I shouldn't have laughed. But I ride the subway to school every day, and no one has _ever_ even tried to lick me. The worst thing that happened was that someone tried to steal my wallet, but I—” He stopped dead, shook his head, and said, “But he changed his mind.”

Tony was sure there was a Spider-Man story there; somehow, Peter had used his enhancements to get his wallet back or perhaps prevented it from being taken at all. Peter wasn't going to tell him, though.

He'd not mentioned anything even close to admitting he was Spider-Man. Tony was waiting for it every day they were together, though. He knew that when Peter chose to tell him, it would be a sign of trust between them—he was waiting impatiently for that moment, the first sign of their bond coming.

He didn’t want to tell him he already knew. If nothing else, it might make Peter think he was only interested in him as the hero and not as the person. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Peter was who he loved. Spider-Man was just an aspect of Peter.

"Lickers or no, you're not riding the subway here," Tony said. "I'll talk to Hap. We'll work it out. Now, I'm going to fix us both a smoothie, and then we can get to work."

Peter gave the contents of the blender a dubious look, which he had the first time Tony had made him one. He liked it, though—or would. Peter liked most things, not at all a picky eater. He had his favorites, though, and spinach, kale, and carrot smoothies were one of them.

He started the blender and watched as the ingredients swirled. When they were smooth, he poured it into two glasses, dropped in straws, and handed one to Peter. “Try it,” he instructed. “You’ll be surprised.”

Still looking dubious, Peter put the straw in his mouth and sucked. Tony watched the play of emotions pass over his face: doubt, surprise, uncertainty, and then pleasure. He sucked down a third of the glass, while Tony sipped his own, and then gasped and said, "Man, that was so good, Mr. Stark. Who knew vegetables could taste like that?”

"It's the carrot juice that makes it so good," Tony said. "That stuff is addictive.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, I bet.” He took another sip then said, “So, what do you need me to do today?”

Tony carried his drink to the bench and pulled up a hologram. “I’d like your thoughts on this,” he said, tapping the hologram and expanding the image. “It’s an upgrade for Rhodey’s suit.”

“Mr. Stark, I know nothing about this stuff,” Peter said awkwardly. “Really. If you tried using my ideas, Colonel Rhodes might end up dropping out of the sky.”

Tony winced at the memory; he knew all too well what that would look like. The day it should have happened and come and gone, wholly avoided. "I won't do anything I don't agree with, and we'll run all the tests, but I'd like your thoughts. Really, kid," he nudged his shoulder with a fist, "tell me what's going on in that head of yours."

Peter hesitated a moment and then moved closer to the hologram and began to twist and turn it, examining the suit from every angle. He bit his lip, cleared his throat, and said, “Well, have you thought about maybe…”

Tony listened as he extolled on his idea, wondering if there was a way to make it work, while inwardly feeling a rush of pride and fondness for his son.

He really was brilliant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… We’ve got that Tony & Peter time we’ve all been waiting for. Believe me, I missed him, too. But now we’re in the second arc, I am free to develop their relationships again. We’ve got some more bonding coming in the next chapter with Steve.   
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Tuesday!  
> Yep, I thought I’d update early to confuse you all ;-)  
> Seriously, though, today I am undertaking writing one of the most important events of the whole story and I could use a little confidence. I’ve been putting this chapter off for about a week as it’s so important and I’m so scared of messing it up and letting the story and series down. Please, send me encouragement so I don’t waste another week working around the scene.  
> Almost forgot – I also have good news. I warned you a while back that this story will contain suicide which could be a trigger for some. Luckily, that idea is no off the table and I worked out another way to deal with the situation. If that was something you were worried about, it’s cut now, gone, so you won’t be reading it.

Steve felt more than a little guilty as he passed through the lobby of Avengers Tower, swiping the key card which Tony said was necessary to appease Happy’s devotion to security. He waved at the reception desk, where three pairs of wide, awed eyes followed him, then went straight to the private elevator and was greeted by Friday when he stepped inside.

“Where’s Tony, Friday?” he asked.

“He’s in the lab with Peter,” she reported. “But they’re planning to get lunch soon.”

“Perfect,” Steve said with a smile.

Tony would not be happy he was here, which was where Steve's guilt came from, but he'd waited long enough to see Peter himself. Bucky had seen him, sneaking into Queens, for which Steve had lectured him on safety and security, receiving a stubborn set jaw and growled, _“I needed to see Peter,”_ in return. Rhodey had seen him twice, and he didn’t even know who Peter really was yet. It was Steve’s turn.

He would have come sooner, but he knew Tony needed some time with him alone before he was forced to share. Tony had been hit hard by what the Ancient One said, they all had, but Tony was the one that seemed to buckle under the news. That was getting better now, though. They were all committed to their plan, to Mind and Peter's plan, to support him and guide him to become the person that was decreed worthy by the Stones. They were searching for Zemo and Josef, and when they found them, they would stop them. They were doing everything they could to create the future they all needed. 

The doors slid open in Tony’s penthouse, and he went to the couch, sat down, and looked around. He wanted to look casual, like this was a visit which just happened to fall on the same day as Peter’s time here. Tony would see through it in a second, and he’d be pissed, but Steve was ready to face that for Peter.

He flipped on the TV to a news channel, but it was playing an analysis report of the Accords and the planned meeting between the Avengers and a select group of representatives of the United Nations on Monday. Steve turned the TV off again, not wanting to be reminded of that, and leaned forwards to pick up a magazine. It was one of Pepper’s though, full of fashion and women’s health, so that was discarded, too. There was a copy of the New York Times under the magazine, which he thought would do, so he picked that up and turned to a page. His eyes were not following the printed words, but he thought he presented a suitably relaxed and innocent pose for Peter.

He waited, eyes glancing at his watch occasionally, until ten minutes had passed, and he heard the hum of the elevator. He kept his eyes on the newspaper, resisting the urge to stare, until the doors opened with a ding and voices reached him.

“Because that would be so cool, Mr. Stark. I know Mrs. Leeds would really appreciate it. She’s doing great with what I made, but if we can improve it, that would be— Oh.”

Steve looked up and saw Peter standing just outside the elevator, eyes wide and mouth open. He guessed it was his appearance that had stunned him. He remembered, with a pang, the last time he’d caught Peter off guard—when he’d been thrown through a glass door for upsetting Tony.

That tension hadn't lasted long, Peter had soon come around, and Steve had become close to him quickly. However, he remembered it clearly, how it had felt to be so out of depth with the power of the kid he didn't know and had not yet learned to trust. Another memory followed, Peter in his bedroom at the compound, unconscious on the floor, body trashed and weak, and he had to swallow down the lump in his throat and paste on a smile.

“Hey,” he said, setting down the newspaper and rising to his feet. “You must be Peter.”

Peter’s head bobbed with a nod. “Uh, yes, Mr… I mean Captain, sir.”

“Steve is fine,” he said.

Peter licked his lips and nodded again.

“Steve,” Tony said through his teeth. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

"I wanted to check in," Steve lied. "We've got that meeting Monday, and I thought we could go over talking points.”

Tony's eyes narrowed, seeing the lie and angry at his presence. Steve felt another pang of guilt, but it was quickly banished by the pleasure of seeing Peter there.

“No can do,” Tony said, his words mild but tone harsh, placing a proprietary hand on Peter’s shoulder and making the kid glance at him and frown. “It’s Peter’s day in the lab. I’ll come back to the compound tomorrow so we can talk. You don’t need to stay.”

Peter’s frown deepened, and he looked between Steve and Tony as if following a tennis match.

“I’d like to, though,” Steve said. “I’ve heard a lot about Peter, and I’d like to get to know him.”

Peter's mouth dropped open, and his eyes bugged. Steve wondered if he was overdoing it or if any reaction from him to Peter would shock him this much. It was different last time. Peter had been awed by them all, but he'd also shared a battlefield already, saved their lives, so there was less pressure on him, perhaps.

“You hungry, Peter?” Steve asked.

Peter snapped his mouth shut, nodded, and said, “Uh… yeah. We were stopping for lunch.”

Tony stared at Steve a moment, eyes narrowed, and then he seemed to accept he wasn’t getting out of this—Steve was here, and he was sticking around, so he might as well get through it. He nodded and forced a smile.

“I’ll fix you something,” Steve said. “What would you like?”

“No!” Peter said loudly and then winced. “I mean, you don’t need to make anything for me. I can do it for you.”

“Wise choice,” Tony said with a smirk. “Cap’s got lots of skills, but anything in the kitchen is out of his range of abilities. He’s a disaster. I wouldn’t even trust a sandwich from him.”

Peter gave a short laugh and said, “My aunt’s like that. She burns everything.”

Steve nodded, remembering Peter telling him that before, and remembering Bucky and Sam teaching him to cook. 

“How about you?” Steve asked. “You much of a chef?”

Peter laughed. “No. Not even a little. I can handle sandwiches, though.”

Tony steered Peter into the kitchen, hand still on his shoulder, and opened the fridge. “What are you in the mood for, Peter?” he asked. “We’ve got all kinds of cold cuts for sandwiches, and I remembered what you said about pickles, so I stocked up on them.”

“You didn't need to do that for me, Mr. Stark," Peter said.

“Billionaire, kid,” Tony said. “I can afford a jar of pickles for you to make your gross sandwiches.”

Peter grinned. "They're not gross, Mr. Stark. One day I'll bring you a sandwich from Mr. Delmar, and you'll understand."

Steve smiled as he remembered Peter's raving about the fantastic sandwiches he bought at the bodega near his apartment. He'd always said he'd get some for them all one day, but he'd never gotten around to it. Maybe that was something they could do now. He liked the idea of the Avengers heading into Queens to share Peter's favorite lunch spot.

“Grab whatever you want and get fixing,” Tony said, grabbing a bag of sub rolls and putting them on the counter.

Steve leaned against the counter island as Peter grabbed packages from the fridge and set them down on the counter. He still seemed a little nervous about what he was doing, helping himself to food in Tony Stark’s penthouse, but he was doing it, which was good for Tony to see.

Steve knew Tony was desperate for Peter to start relaxing around him and be comfortable as he was in the future, but he accepted that would take time. That was something they were all going to struggle with over time. He himself wanted the kid that called him Brooklyn and whose eyes smiled when he saw him. He would aim for being called Steve, though, and give him time for everything else.

Wanting one thing from his future, though, he asked, “Where are you from, Peter?”

Peter looked up from the package of sliced cheese he was holding and said, "Well, I moved around a lot with my parents when I was young, but my aunt and uncle took me in after my parents died, and they lived in Queens. That's home, really."

“Queens,” Steve said with a nod. “Good moniker. I’m from Brooklyn.”

“Yeah, I, uh, know,” Peter said. “We learned about you in school, and my uncle took me to the Smithsonian to see the exhibit on you and the Howling Commandos a few years ago.”

Tony grinned. “Yeah? Did you see the before and after pictures?”

"Yeah, they were kinda crazy."

Tony shot Steve a wink, seeming to be over his annoyance, and said, “So, you saw how scrawny Steve was.”

Peter averted his eyes. “Yeah, it was a, uh, big change.”

“It was,” Steve agreed. “And you know the craziest thing about it, more than the fact I suddenly gained 150 pounds of muscle?”

Peter shook his head.

“I also gained seven inches of height. That was hard to get used to.”

““Yeah, I guess that’d be weird. I…” Peter bit his lip. “I can see that’d be hard.”

Steve thought he was going to say something different, perhaps a mention of how he could understand sudden physical changes, as he’d gone through them himself after the bite. He aborted the sentence, though, and began to assemble the ingredients for their sandwiches on the counter.

Steve knew Tony was waiting for Peter to come clean about Spider-Man. He wasn't sure why he hadn't already, since surely getting support on his actions from Iron Man would be good. For whatever reason, Peter was still playing it close to the chest.

"What would you like in your sandwich, Mr… uh… Steve?" Peter asked.

“Whatever you’re making for yourself,” Steve replied. “I’m not fussy. Growing up in the Depression means you have to get used to eating whatever’s put in front of you.”

“Okay. Great.”

Peter took a knife from the block and sliced two subs, spread them, and began laying over a selection of meats. Steve saw salami, ham, chicken breast, and pastrami be topped by gouda. He began to wonder just what this sandwich was going to taste like. It was definitely an interesting combination to have. Peter sliced pickles, laid them over the other toppings, then closed the rolls, squashed them down flatter than seemed necessary, and plated them.

“Uh… here you go,” he said a little anxiously. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it. I can make you something else. May says my tastebuds come from the Parker side of the family, which I think means they’re weird.”

Steve chuckled and took the sandwich. “I’m sure it’s great.”

“You want a coffee, Steve?” Tony asked, interrupting their conversation with a smile that looked a little strained.

“No, I’ll take a soda, though,” Steve said. “You want one, Queens?”

Peter stared a moment, heat flushing his face, and then he smiled and said, “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Steve.”

Pleased at the use of his name without a stammer or hesitation, Steve smiled to himself and grabbed two cokes from the fridge. He set them down on the counter island and then took a seat, pulling his sandwich towards him. Peter perched beside him and shot him a small smile.

Tony grabbed his own, far simpler sandwich and joined them, and said, “Dig in, kid. I can hear your stomach growling.”

Peter blushed again but took a bite of his sandwich and gave Steve a look which was filled with nervous anticipation. Understanding what he needed, Steve picked up his sandwich and took a large bite.

His eyes widened, and he huffed a laugh around his mouthful. It was good. No, it was better than good. It was amazing. How had Peter never made this for him before?

He realized as soon as the question occurred that it was because Bucky and Sam claimed the kitchen, and Peter only went there for snacks and his cooking lessons. When he got back, when they'd worked it all out and saved Peter, Steve was going to encourage Peter to make these sandwiches for them all because they were so good.

He chewed quickly and swallowed, then said, "Queens, this is amazing!"

Peter looked extraordinarily pleased, and he said, "They’re my favorite."

“Seriously, Tony, you’ve got to try it,” Steve said, pushing his plate towards him.

Tony grimaced and pushed it back. “No, thanks. You’re a good kid, Peter, with many great qualities, but I am not eating pickles.”

“You’re missing out,” Steve said, and Peter nodded seriously.

For a while, the only sounds were their chewing and the clink of Steve and Peter's cans of coke being set down and Tony's mug. Steve relished the rest of his sandwich, already thinking about how he was going to tell Bucky all about it when he got back to the compound.

Bucky was locked down on the compound for now because they all knew the temptation of being in the city meant he would soon be in Queens. As much as they understood his desire to see Peter, and some of them shared it, Bucky getting arrested was too big a risk with things the way there were. As much sympathy as Steve and Tony had for him, they prioritized Bucky being a free man more than his need to see Peter.

When Steve had eaten the last bite of his sandwich, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and balled it up. “Well, Queens, that was the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” he said seriously. “And being friends with Tony means you eat in some real fancy places.”

Tony shot him an incredulous look, but Steve nodded. It really was that good. Perhaps his opinion was influenced by the fact it was Peter that had made it for him; perhaps it was the combination of ingredients; whatever it was, Steve was asking him to make that again soon.

“It’s the pickles,” Peter said with the solemnity of someone passing on profound knowledge. “They make everything better.”

“Must be,” Steve said. “So, what have you and Tony spent the morning doing?”

Peter visibly brightened. "We looked at War Machine's armor, and we're working on an upgrade for that, which was awesome, but Mr. Stark said I can bring the powered exoskeleton leg brace I made for my best friend's grandmother and work on that next time. I did my best with what we had at school, but with Mr. Stark’s tools and materials, I can make them even better.”

“Sounds great,” Steve said.

“It really is,” Tony said. “What he made was amazing, and it’s incredible that it was done in a high school workshop. Seriously, Steve, the kid’s a genius.”

“Yeah, you said,” Steve agreed.

Peter blushed again and looked down at his lap. Even in the future, when Tony was his father, Peter didn’t accept praise easily. Perhaps it was part of what made him worthy, that humbleness. Steve appreciated that it was part of Peter's character, but he wished he would listen to what they said when they praised him because they all meant every single word of it.

“What do you like to do when you’re not inventing this stuff?” Steve asked.

Peter bit his lip, seeming embarrassed to be called upon to talk about himself. “Oh. I… uh… like school, so homework isn’t something that gets me down like some kids. And me and my best friend play a lot of computer games at his place, since I don’t have a console. We build Lego models together, too. That sounds kinda lame, I know—”

“Not at all,” Steve said. “Those things can be tricky.”

Peter looked a little surprised that Captain America knew about Lego. Steve probably wouldn’t if not for rambling explanations from Peter in 2023.

Peter nodded, though, and went on. “They can, yeah. We like to make the really big, intricate ones. We follow the creators in the forums to find out what they’re working on. They’ve just brought out a Death Star kit that— Do you know what the Death Star is?”

“It’s a Star Wars thing,” Steve said, a hint of pride in his voice.

He knew because he’d watched the movies with Peter more than once. The first time, when Peter had been locked in catatonia, was a troubling memory. However, it had been replaced with movie nights in which Peter whispered the lines as if following a script right in front of him and reacted to all the twists and turns in the plot as if it was the first time he was seeing them. 

Peter nodded eagerly. "It is, yeah. They're our favorite movies. Ned is saving his allowance for the kit. When he gets it, we'll make it together. It'll take a while since it's got nearly four-thousand pieces."

Steve’s eyes widened. “Really? I had no idea there’d be that many.”

“Yeah. They really are intricate. Ned's bedroom is full of the ones we've built since he refuses to take them apart once they're made. His mom goes nuts because she has to dust them, but she loves him, so…" he shrugged, "she puts up with it."

Tony downed the last of his coffee and pushed his plate away. “Well, as fun as this has been, Steve, me and Peter have got to get back to work.”

Peter started and looked a little guilty, as if he'd been keeping Tony waiting with his conversation. Steve would have to remind Tony to be careful about what he said to Peter for now. This wasn't Peter that was used to his ups and downs, his curt nature with people—though never with his family—and Peter was going to be sensitive. He wouldn't know Tony's curt words were directed to Steve, who had crashed their day together.

“Sure, Mr. Stark,” he said. “Sorry.”

Tony raised his hand slightly, as if he was going to tousle Peter’s hair as he was apt to do, and then he dropped it and said, “No worries, kid. It was good to take a break. But we’ve got lots to do before Happy comes to pick you up.”

“I could ride the subway,” Peter ventured.

"Nope," Tony said. "Already decided that's a bad idea. Until you can drive yourself here, you're getting chauffeur service."

Peter nodded, though he looked a little troubled, and said, “It was really nice to talk to you, Steve.”

“You too,” Steve said, patting his shoulder. “We’ll have to do it again soon.”

Peter grinned. “Yeah, definitely.”

Tony got to his feet and led Peter back to the elevator. As they entered, Steve heard him say, "You know, if Cap can be Steve, you could call me Tony."

“Uh, sure, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, and Tony groaned.

As the elevator door slid closed behind them, Steve grinned. He knew, as Peter had told him once, that he’d struggled to call Tony by his first name for the longest time as he was the one that he’d admired most of all.

Since Peter was a kid, before Iron Man even, Tony had been Peter’s hero. He wondered if Tony knew that, if Peter had ever told him. He wasn’t going to inform him if he didn’t know. He thought it would mean more to Tony if it came from Peter himself.

He carried their plates and Tony's cup to the sink, rinsed them, and stowed them in the dishwasher. As tempted as he was to stick around and see Peter again before he went home, he thought he had tested Tony's patience enough for one day.

He would come back soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Some Steve time at last. As eager as I am to get Peter to meet all the Avengers, to create that found family we all love, I need to balance it with Peter and Tony’s needs. It will come, though.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Thursday! We’re even closer to the weekend than we are with usual mid-week updates.  
> Your good wishes helped last time, and it was great to hear from some new names—welcome—but I didn’t get the scene written. I can’t overstate how big it is and how easily I could mess it up—therefore disappointing you all. I’m going to have another stab at it today, so send me all the good writing vibes you have.  
> Many thanks xxx

Peter learned his lesson about telling Ned anything big in school, so it wasn't until after school when they went to Delmar's to get a sandwich then take it to the park to eat that he told him about his day at the tower.

“And he said I can work on your grandmother’s brace in his lab,” he said. “So I can really improve it.”

“Awesome,” Ned said enthusiastically. “She’ll be thrilled. You know she loves what you already made, like seriously—I think she wants to adopt you as a grandson. It'd be great if you could make it less bulky, though."

“It would,” Peter agreed. He took the last bite of his sandwich, chewed quickly, swallowed, and said, “And I met someone else at the tower, too.”

“Yeah?” Ned said interestedly, taking a bite of his sandwich and talking around the mouthful. “Who?”

“Captain America.”

Ned's eyes widened, and he made a strangled gasping sound.

Peter panicked, realizing what was happening as Ned began to rasp for air around the food lodged in his throat. He jumped to his feet and slapped Ned in the back three times. Ned grunted, coughed, and the piece of masticated sandwich flew out of his mouth and onto the ground.

“Dude,” Ned rasped.

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter said, holding his hands up. “I should have waited. Did I hurt you? I hit you pretty hard. I was panicking, though. I couldn’t remember what they taught us about the Heimlich in school. I should ask May for a refresher since that’s kinda an important thing to know. But, really, that’s my bad. You need a doctor?”

Ned held up a shaking hand, his eyes watering and breaths coming weak, but his first words ensured Peter had no idea if it was trauma from the choking or excitement. “You met Captain America?”

“Yeah. He came by to talk to Mr. Stark, and I made him a sandwich.”

“You made Captain America a sandwich,” Ned said weakly.” Captain America ate food you made. That’s the most insane thing. How were you even brave enough? What if you’d given him food poisoning?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “I don’t know. I didn’t think. No. Mr. Stark bought all the food I used, and he wouldn’t buy stuff that’d make someone sick. I’m sure I didn’t poison him. I’d have heard if I did. I’m sure Mr. Stark would have told me.”

Ned raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

Peter punched his shoulder, far more gently this time, and said, “Ned! I did not poison Captain America. Stop freaking me out.”

Ned frowned, then nodded and smiled. “Yeah, sorry. I lost my head. This is just huge news. It’s almost as big as you getting the internship. I mean, really. Like, what is your life now?”

Peter shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s crazy to me, too. But he was really nice. He called me Queens.”

Ned gaped and whispered. "Captain America gave you a nickname. That's like next-level cool."

"It is," Peter agreed. "And he told me to call him Steve, which is, yeah, kinda mind-boggling. Mr. Stark keeps asking me to call him Tony, too, but that's like… I don't know. It'd be like calling the President Matt."

Ned nodded seriously. “It really would. I can’t believe you’re calling Captain America Steve, though. Seriously?”

"Yeah." Peter balled up his sandwich wrapper and tossed it into the bin. "This whole internship is crazy. But it was also a little weird. Mr. Stark didn't seem happy that Steve was there. Like he was angry at him or something."

Ned held up his hands. “No. I don’t want to hear that. The Avengers can’t be angry with each other. It was just an off-day. The Avengers are tight. Always. They're like, world-saving BFFs.”

“They are,” Peter said, nodding seriously. “Totally just an off day. Maybe I did something wrong that put Mr. Stark in a bad mood.”

Ned rolled his eyes. "Dude, you're spiraling. I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong. You'd know if you did. Tony Stark's not going to put up with that. Hell, if he's giving you all that time, he must like you even."

Peter grinned. “Yeah, I think so. Maybe.”

“Do you think you’ll go there more when school breaks up?” Ned asked. “We’ve only got two more weeks.”

Peter shrugged. "I don't know. Mr. Stark probably won't even know when school ends. It's not like he's got kids to pay attention for. Besides, I've got lots of things to do over the summer. You know we'll still be having decathlon training sessions in the library to keep us sharp. We'll have a new captain in the fall who's going to want us at the top of our game."

Ned crumpled his sandwich wrapped and tossed it at the bin. It missed, and he had to get up to pick it up and put it in. “You think Liz will make captain?”

Peter felt a warmth in his stomach, the same warmth he always felt when he thought of Liz. He knew she was lightyears away from him in dating prospects: she was older, had loads of friends, and a lot of guys liked her. She was really popular. Peter couldn’t help staring when she was around, though.

“I think so. She’s really smart.”

“And beautiful?” Ned said, a gleam in his eye.

“Totally.”

Ned grinned. “Dude, you should just ask her out.”

Peter shook his head jerkily. “No. No way. Never. She’s way out of my league. I’ll just admire her from a distance.”

“You could do that, or you could be a man,” Ned said.

“I’ll be a boy a bit longer if being a man means embarrassing myself in front of Liz Toomes,” Peter said seriously.

Ned laughed. “Yeah, I get that. I probably would, too. What else are we doing this summer? You know all work and no play makes us dull boys. At least that’s what my grandma says. Obviously, my chores will be increased, since I won’t be in school, but we’ll have time. And your birthday is in August. What are you doing?”

Peter shrugged. “No idea. Maybe a movie night.”

“Dude, you’re going to be fifteen! You need to step up your celebration game.”

“Maybe,” Peter said.

In truth, his birthday was a tough subject. He and May didn’t have much spare money to spend on birthdays, not now they didn’t have Ben’s wages coming in, too. It would also be his first birthday without Ben, and Peter didn’t think they should make a big deal of it. A movie night would be fine. Ned could stay over, and they could get pizza.

Peter’s summer was stretching ahead of him, and he was looking forward to spending more time as Spider-Man. It would be good to be out there more, helping people. It made him feel like he was doing something right when he was in his suit and swinging around Queens, like he was living up to Ben’s legacy. Ben said with great power came great responsibility, and Peter had failed at that at first. He’d gotten his powers and done nothing with them. He should have. If he’d been prepared, strong enough, he could have saved Ben’s life instead of watching helplessly as he died.

There was one worry with being Spider-Man—the Accords they were always talking about on the news. Peter didn’t think they’d affect him, he wasn’t a superhero like the Avengers, but Flash had mentioned them in reference to Spider-Man once. Peter should ask Mr. Stark, but how could he do that without revealing why he was asking.

He wanted to tell Mr. Stark who he was, but it seemed too big and too small at the same time. Big, because Mr. Stark might tell him the Accords would impact him and he should stop; small, because what was Spider-Man compared to Iron Man and Captain America?

“What’s with the face?” Ned asked. “We’re talking important stuff here, summer, your birthday, Liz, and you look miserable.”

"Just thinking," Peter said evasively, and then changed the subject. "I'll need to pick up your grandma's brace on Wednesday morning since Happy will be picking me up after school. I'll get it back to her as soon as I can, though. Maybe after my Saturday session.”

“No worries,” Ned said. “I’ll tell her she’s getting an upgraded model. She’ll be happy to wait.” He rubbed his stomach and said, “Shall we go back to mine and play that Avengers game? We’ve _still_ not beaten it, which is because I’m a good friend and haven’t played without you.”

“Yeah. I’ve got an hour before I need to be home for dinner with May.” He got to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Ned jumped up, and they headed out of the path and towards Ned's apartment. Peter was content with the afternoon ahead. He would have some fun with Ned, see May for a while, then get out and do a patrol as Spider-Man.

xXx

Tony was unexpectedly nervous on Wednesday. He'd arranged for Peter to stay for dinner to spend time with him and Pepper. He was sure Pepper was going to love him when she got to know him, and Peter had always liked Pepper in the future, but so much more weighed on it this time because he wanted it so much.

Without Pepper’s focus on Morgan—who he missed with a longing that was a physical pain in his chest—she would have a chance to get to know Peter for himself.

They’d spent a few hours in the lab with Peter working on the exoskeleton brace he’d made for his friend’s grandmother. He seemed to know what he wanted to do and how to do it, so Tony occupied himself with some work of his own on Bucky’s new arm and watching Peter out of the corner of his eye.

He liked seeing Peter independent like this. He was still occasionally awkward and nervous talking to Tony—though it was getting better with each day spent together—but when he was involved in his work, he was like a different person—confident and excited. Tony loved it.

When the time came around to make dinner, he called Peter away from his project and led him up to the penthouse. He'd told Pepper to be there for six, and it was a little before, but he wanted to make a start on dinner. He was also looking forward to showing Pepper what he was capable of in the kitchen.

He'd always been a disaster before. It was only when they had their own house by the lake and time to relax together that he'd learned. Pepper was in her third trimester then, and she'd been happy to take time to relax while he cooked for her.

He'd started out studying cookbooks and watching cooking shows on TV, learning as much as he could, before he'd ventured into the grocery store, stocked up on what he needed, and endeavored to make a fancy salmon mousse and chicken alfredo. The first attempt could only be called a disaster, but he'd learned from it, tried again the next day, and improved until he was great.

It wasn’t arrogance; he had the opinions of people that ate his meals backing him up. His mind had always been his most valued asset by the people in his life, only Pepper and Rhodey, and Happy, seeing anything else to value in him. He'd thought Obie valued him as a person, too, at the time, but he'd learned better.

“Okay, Pete,” he said when they got to the kitchen, slipping into the truncated nickname without conscious thought. “We’re making stir fry, so I need you to put your skills to slicing and dicing.”

“Uh… Mr. Stark, I don’t have any skills,” Peter said.

“I’ve seen you working with the most intricate tools in the lab, so I know you’ve got the dexterity. If you don’t have the skills already, now is the time to learn them. Think how good you’ll feel if you can make your aunt a delicious meal when she gets home from work one day?”

Peter smiled. “Yeah, that’d be pretty great. My uncle was the cook in our family, but he was kinda territorial about the kitchen. It was weird as he was the most easy-going person the rest of the time. Maybe he saw that I was beyond help so just kept me out of the way.”

Tony smiled fondly. Peter had rarely spoken about his uncle before. The only time he ventured the topic was in 2023, after he'd been able to visit May and Ben in the Soul Plane. Tony wondered at the difference now, when they only had the newest developing bond. It didn’t occur to him that he was the one that was different this time. He was more open with Peter than he had been the first time around. It was far too soon to tell Peter he loved him, that he cared for him like a son, too soon by years, but he did long for that day.

He opened the fridge and began to pull out packages of vegetables and meat, placing them in Peter's hands. As the packages piled up, Peter’s eyes grew wider until, with one last bag of fresh shrimp, Tony said, “That’ll do. Put them on the counter, and I'll tell you where to start."

Peter did as he was told, then washed his hands and waited for further instructions.

“I need you to dice the chicken,” he said. “We want bitesize pieces.” He took a knife from the block, set a chopping board on the counter, and said, “Get to work.”

Peter looked a little unsure, but he picked up the knife and began to slice the chicken breast, his movements careful but a little slow.

Tony began to chop the vegetables, the knife moving swiftly and precisely. He’d not cooked for a while, so it was a nice change for him to be doing something simple and familiar.

They worked in silence for a moment, then Tony flipped on the radio, which was playing a classic rock station. Led Zeppelin filled the air, and Tony began to sing along, earning a grin from Peter.

“Oh, damn,” Peter said suddenly.

Tony's eyes darted to him, and he saw there were spots of blood on the chopping board, chicken, and knife, and Peter was grasping his right hand in his left.

“Let me see,” he said.

Peter winced and held out his hand. He'd cut through the heel of his thumb, and blood was flowing. Tony grabbed a cloth and dabbed the blood away, seeing a deep gash.

“This is going to need stitches,” he said.

Peter shook his head. "No. Really. It's fine. I can't go to a hospital because I— I mean, I hate hospitals, scared of them. Don't make me go. I'll just cover it with a bandage. It’ll heal fast.”

Tony knew it would; with Spider-Man healing, it would probably only take a day, but it needed stitches to close the wound until his enhanced healing could take over.

“You don’t have to go to a hospital,” Tony said gently, knowing it was not fear of hospitals but fear of exposure that worried him. “We’ve got a med bay here staffed by some of the best medics in the city. We set it up when the Avengers started living here, and I never stood them down since accidents happen. They’ll still be on duty. Come on. Let’s get this fixed up.”

Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Peter allowed himself to be led to the elevator and down to the fifth floor where the med bay was.

When they entered, Tony called, “Head’s up, people. We’ve got a bleeding intern.”

One of the medics in their blue scrubs appeared, and Tony gently removed the cloth from Peter’s wound. She tutted and said, “At least three stitches.”

“Really?” Peter said. “Can’t we just use butterfly bandages?”

Tony was momentarily confused, and then realization caught up with him. If Peter had stitches, he would feel each and every one of them going in as no lidocaine they had was going to numb him for more than a minute with his metabolism burning through the drugs. 

Tony needed to rectify that, to get the drugs made, but without Bruce, that was going to be a problem. He couldn’t tell his staff that Peter was Spider-Man, as he would never want that. Perhaps T’Challa’s people could help when he got back in touch after the proof of their story had been seen—which would be soon.

“I think it’s worth a try,” he said, wanting to spare Peter the pain of stitches. “The kid says he heals fast.”

"Scared of needles?" The medic, Sofia, her ID said, asked.

Peter nodded jerkily. “Yeah, totally terrified.”

She considered, then said, "We can try them for now, but if they pull apart, you're going to need stitches?"

Peter exhaled a sigh of relief and said, “Thanks.”

Sofia led them into a bay and fetched what she needed to tend Peter’s wound. Peter sat on the chair and placed his hand on the rolling table.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark,” he said. “I wasn’t paying attention. And now the chicken is all bloody and ruined.”

“It’s fine,” Tony said. “We’ll get takeout for dinner instead and try the cooking thing again some other time.”

Peter still looked guilty, but he nodded and said, “Okay. Thanks.”

Tony looked up as the door slid open behind them, expecting Sofia’s return, but it was Pepper. She looked a little harried, and her eyes moved from Peter’s bloody hand to Tony’s face and said, “Friday told me Peter was hurt. What happened?”

“Peter got his hand between the knife and the chicken,” he said.

“Oh no. Are you okay, Peter?”

“I’m fine, Miss. Potts,” he said. “It looks worse than it feels.”

Pepper moved closer to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Well, that’s not saying much as it looks pretty bad.”

Peter looked embarrassed. “Really, it’s okay.”

Tony watched Pepper interact with him, the softness of concern on her face, and he wished he had her poise. She seemed to feel no conflict touching Peter, her hand on his shoulder, and yet Tony was wary of each touch. He didn't want to show how much he cared too soon as Peter wouldn't understand it, would possibly be freaked out. Pepper had no such hesitancy.

He wondered if it was his own paranoia holding him back. After all, Peter had turned him reaching for the door into a hug after their first meeting, so maybe he could relax a little. With a hand that wanted to shake, he squeezed Peter's free hand and said, "We'll get you fixed up in no time, Pete."

Peter seemed a little surprised by the sign of affection, but he didn't pull away, which gave Tony confidence. He would be careful and slow, balance what he felt with what Peter would accept, but he’d allow himself a little more contact in the future. It was his actions that were going to show Peter how he felt more than his words, and this was his son, even though he didn't know it. 

Sofia bustled in and asked Tony and Pepper to give her space to work. Peter averted his eyes from his hand as she began to clean the wound, though he winced with each touch. This was not yet the Peter that was accustomed to pain, that bore the horrific burns to his hand and arm with an understated, ‘It kinda hurts.’ This was Peter before his true suffering came.

Pepper and Tony stood back, and Pepper leaned her head against Tony’s shoulder. She seemed to sense that he needed the contact, and she was delivering for him as she always did.

"So, Pete," Tony said as Sofia pinched the edges of the wound together and laid over the bandage strips, "What are you in the mood for? We've got any foods available in New York City to choose from. Italian, Thai, something a little fancier like French?”

“Uh… I’ll eat anything,” Peter said. “Whatever you and Miss. Potts want.”

“What do you think, Pep?” Tony asked.

Pepper considered Peter then said, “I think Thai sounds good. You like that, Peter?”

Peter beamed. “It’s one of my favorites.”

"Perfect," Tony said. "You think about what you want, and we'll have Friday order it for us."

Peter nodded, seeming less occupied with what was happening to his hand now, and said. “Well, I love larb…”

“Hear that, Friday?” Tony asked. “Start making a list.”

“Yes, Boss,” she said obligingly. “Whatever you say.”

xXx

Peter’s hand was wrapped in a white dressing, which Tony knew he would have to keep on long past the point he healed to keep up appearances, and their food had arrived. They were sitting around the table in the penthouse, glasses of wine in front of Tony and Pepper, and a can of coke for Peter.

“So, Peter, do you have plans for your future yet?” Pepper asked.

Peter shrugged. "Yeah, probably too many. I mean, I'm only fourteen, but at Midtown, you're encouraged to think ahead. I'd like to do something in bioengineering."

Tony felt a small pang. If the future went in their favor, Peter lived and had possessed Stones, a career wasn’t something Peter thought he could have. Tony hated that. Peter was brilliant and could have an amazing career, but he saw himself as the universe’s protector and couldn’t see himself as that and having a future outside it. Tony couldn’t even persuade him to go back to school in 2023.

“I’d like to help people,” he went on with a small smile. “I love what I could do for Ned’s grandma—did I tell you about that?”

“Tony told me,” Pepper said. “He was very impressed by it. So, you’d like to continue with that?”

"That maybe, or something more biology-based for medical treatments. I’ve got too many ideas to decide between.”

“Do you have a dream college?” Pepper asked.

Peter’s cheeks flushed. “Dream is the word. I don’t think I can get into where I’d ideally like to study, as places are crazy competitive.”

"You'd be a frontrunner anywhere with a mind like yours," Tony said, a touch of pride in his voice, which he did not deserve to take; he was not Peter's father yet. "And you know tuition is covered."

Peter ducked his head. “Yeah, you said.”

Something was troubling him, Tony could tell, but he didn’t know what it was. He wasn’t sure how he could find out.

“I’d like to study at Columbia if I can get in,” Peter said.

“MIT would be better,” Tony said automatically.

Peter nodded. “Yeah, MIT is amazing, but—” He bit his lip. “I’d like to stay in New York.”

Tony realized what he was saying, and he felt a small pang. Peter would want to stay in New York so he could keep acting as Spider-Man. Tony didn't like that his future was even more limited than he knew.

"New York is a great city," Tony said. "But you shouldn't let geography decide for you. The city will still be there when you finish college."

“It will be,” Pepper agreed. “From what Tony says, you’ve got an amazing future ahead of you, Peter, and you should seize every opportunity that comes along.”

“Yeah. Absolutely,” Peter said eagerly. “I will.”

Tony could see the lie in his eyes, though.

He wondered how Peter was doing in 2023, his memories changing with each event they changed. Was he happy with what he was seeing? Did he like having this chance to get to know Pepper? He must.

Tony wondered if Peter missed Morgan as much as he did. He’d not seen her either, not for even longer than Tony. He'd been gone two weeks chasing Kaecilius, and had been in the hospital two weeks longer. Was what he was experiencing with these changes enough to satisfy him, or did he long for his sister?

Tony wished he could ask, and he wondered if Mind would tell him the truth if he did. Mind was the only connection they had to Peter in 2023, and he was an unknown quantity. He cared about Peter in a way that he seemed to believe was different to love, beyond it perhaps, so were the Stones taking care of him? Were they talking to him, or was he alone, just watching?

Whatever was happening, Tony just hoped Peter was happy. He was most of the time. He missed Morgan, he missed his life in 2023, but he didn’t resent being here.

For Peter, he would do anything. 

xXx

That night, when Tony lay in bed with Pepper held close, her cheek resting on his chest, he asked what she thought of Peter with much anticipation of the answer.

“He’s a great kid,” she said. “I like having a chance to get to know him. I cared about him before because of what he meant to you, but now I care about him for himself, and that feels even better.”

Tony was pleased, as Pepper had not that chance in the future. She'd seen his grief at Peter's loss, carried him through it with love and the promise of Morgan, but she'd never loved Peter for Peter. 

Now she had this chance, and he was sure it was only a matter of time before she loved him, too.

With a peaceful mind, he flipped off the light and fell to sleep with her warm weight held against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… A little accident, a little Tony and Peter time, and Pepper’s meeting him properly. One of the things I missed in the previous stories was building a bond between Peter and Pepper. She was always occupied with Morgan, though, and Peter was a difficult person to allow yourself to love while defending your daughter from the pain that came with it. I plan to change that this time.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday!  
> Hope your weeks were good and your weekends will be better.  
> If you’ve been missing the drama in this story lately, don’t worry. I’m here to deliver this time ;-)

Bucky knew he should not be here, he'd been warned, and he wasn't stupid, but he'd not seen Peter for over a month, and the desire to at least check in on him was too strong.

Steve and Tony didn't understand it because they could see Peter, though they tried to sympathize. They didn’t get it, though; they didn’t have to go without him the way Bucky did. The fact was Bucky needed to see Peter, which was why he'd waited until dark, when he was free to leave the compound to walk in the forest, had run to the nearest town and stolen a car.

It wasn't that hard to get away as Friday was used to his walks, so she didn't alert anyone, and Steve, Tony, and Natasha were in the city to spend a night at the tower to meet with the lawyers.

Bucky left the stolen car in a shady part of Queens then set out on foot. He hoped Peter would be patrolling that night; otherwise, the whole trip would be a waste of time. He started out near Peter's apartment and gradually walked further from the neighborhood, his ears attuned for the sound of Peter's webs slinging.

He had to walk for an hour, head ducked under his baseball cap, and gloved hands tucked in his pockets, before anything happened, and then it was a motorcycle pulling onto the sidewalk, across his path, and a person climbing off.

Immediately on alert, Bucky braced himself but kept his tone polite as he said, "Excuse me," and started to walk around the motorcycle.

There was a laugh from behind the black motorcycle helmet, and the person slid off while reaching into their jacket for something.

Sensing danger, Bucky dropped his shoulder and charged the person, but before he could make contact, there was a strange, muffled snap, and he felt a blow to his upper right arm like a punch. It immediately burned, and he felt warm blood slicking his skin.

He was momentarily stunned, and then his tactical mind took over, and he swung out with his left fist to slam into the person's gut. They dodged back and then raised the gun with its elongated muzzle, the silencer locked in place, and aimed it at Bucky’s head.

"Go into the alley, Soldier," a male voice said.

Bucky knew the voice, but he couldn’t remember who it was in that instant. His mind was reeling with the threat he was facing. His arm burned with pain, though that he could ignore.

Deciding his best course of action was to obey, to get them somewhere alone to out of the way, so the people on the street weren't at risk, he ducked deep into the alley, with the gun aimed at his head. His heart was racing, and Peter's face was prominent in his mind. Bucky was not scared of death, he had long ago accepted his mortality, and he knew he was destined to be alive in 2023, but he was terrified of leaving Peter behind now while he recovered from whatever this man was about to do to him.

The man crowded Bucky until he was pressed against the wall, the gun still aimed at his head, and the man said, “Tell me, Soldier, are you out of time, too? They thought you must be if you’re here, looking for the boy.”

Bucky shook his head, dismissing the question, and then something clicked into place in his mind, and he realized who it was he was facing.

“Zemo!” he snarled.

The man nodded. “Yes. They said you know me. I don’t know you. Not yet. I am going to know you very well, though. You are going to work for us. We were going to use another, but there is a perfect symmetry to using you. They say you love the boy.”

Peter!

The name shot through Bucky’s mind like a firework, tensing every muscle and locking his breaths in his lungs. It lasted a moment, a beat of time, and then he threw all caution to the wind and charged forwards. Zemo was already in motion though, he skipped back and pulled something from his jacket's inner pocket.

Having seen it before, Bucky knew what was coming when the black snub-nosed gun appeared, and he swung to the side to miss the dart that was fired at him, dropping his hand from his wound, and swung out a fist. He was aiming for the throat of his attacker, but Zemo ducked his head, and his hand struck the chin of the motorcycle helmet.

His failed attack gave Zemo time to engage another dart, and as it pierced his chest, above his heart, he cursed inwardly at his oversight.

He was Sargent James Barnes, a Howling Commando, he was a trained assassin, and yet he was making stupid mistakes. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to kill, perhaps it was because Peter’s voice was too loud in his mind, his belief in protecting life, whatever the reason, as the electric current shot through him, he knew it was his own fault.

He dropped to his knees in the dirty ground, his nose close to the wheel of a dumpster, and his heart raced as the current surged through him. He was defeated and knew he would be destroyed if he did not overcome this and fight back, but a new horror was waiting for him.

The black sheen of the motorcycle helmet visor came close to his head as the current swept through him, and Zemo's voice, accented and cold, whispered. "Желание. Ржавый. Семнадцать. Рассвет. Печь. Девять. Добросердечный. Возвращение на родину. Один."

Even though his horror and his determination to fight back was strong, Bucky felt each word digging into his mind, wiping away his free will. As the shocks finally stopped, he battled within his own mind to strike.

With a searing pain in his wounded upper arm, with his muscles still contracting from the shock, he snatched the gun from Zemo’s hand and turned it. Without a moment’s hesitation, he shot him blindly in the gut. Zemo staggered back, hand coming to the wound, and with his rasping, pained breath, he spat, “Грузовой вагон.”

The last word wiped away all else, all will Bucky had of his own, and he straightened up, not feeling the pain of his wound or aftershocks of the taser. He was under Zemo’s control completely.

He watched as Zemo straightened up, a hand clutched to his wounded stomach, his breaths coming fast and pained. “Will you comply?” he asked.

“I will comply,” Bucky said.

Zemo nodded, then groaned. "You will return to the Avengers," he said. "You will watch and listen. You will tell us what they are doing and planning. Do you understand?”

Bucky nodded. “I understand.”

Zemo took a small flip-phone from his pocket and slapped it into Bucky’s hand, “We will call you for reports. Do not tell anyone what happened. Your wounds came from an attempted mugging. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Bucky said.

Zemo nodded and then staggered away. With what looked like a great deal of effort and pain, he swung his leg over the motorcycle, gunned the engine, and sped away.

Bucky watched him go, his heart beating placidly in his chest, and his grip relaxed as he tucked the phone away in his pocket. He could feel the burn of the wound in his upper arm, but the pain wasn't troubling him. To the Winter Soldier, pain was nothing, and that was who he was now. 

He flexed his arm, feeling the blood soaking his jacket, and started walking. He reached the lip of the alley and then stopped and looked up as he heard a strange thwip sound. His eyes moved up, and he saw a figure in red and blue clinging to the side of the building on the right. The face was covered by a mask with strange goggles for eyes.

"Hey," a cheerful voice said, and the figure dropped from the wall and landed in front of him. "You're my taser buddy, right? Are you— Oh, wow! You're bleeding."

Bucky's eyes followed the figure as they approached and pulled the torn fabric of Bucky's sleeve back to reveal the wound on his upper arm.

"Wow. That's really bad. You need to go to the hospital. Can you walk, or shall I call an ambulance?"

"No ambulance," Bucky said, tone inflectionless. "I don't need help."

"You probably don't realize it, but you really do. You've lost a lot of blood. It's probably the adrenaline blocking you from feeling how bad it is, but… Really, Mister, it's not good. I've got to staunch the bleeding with something."

Bucky stared at the figure with a voice so young and yet so familiar. It danced around Bucky's mind, teasing the corners with a feeling of fondness, which was out of place with the bland neutrality of the Winter Soldier. The man—or was he a boy—tugged the glove from Bucky's hand, revealing the metal fingers. He didn't seem to notice at first what he was seeing, bundling the wool and pressing it to the wound on his upper arm, and then his eyes darted back to the glint of metal, and he gulped.

"Oh. I see. Wow. You're the… uh… damn…"

Bucky stiffened. He should kill him now, he knew. He wanted to. This kid was a threat to him and his mission. 

"Bucky," he said without thought. "My name is Bucky."

"Oh. I'm… Spider-Man."

 _Spider-Man…_ the name whispered in Bucky's mind, creating a strange sense of displacement. The two sides of himself rubbed against each other—Bucky Barnes versus the Winter Soldier. The boy—and he was just a boy, he knew that now—was creating the paradox. For a moment, the Winter Soldier triumphed, wanting to kill the boy, but Bucky Barnes was stronger, dominant, and he was the one that felt the surge of horror at what he could have done.

He took a step back, away from Peter, his heart racing as his wound burned with pain. "Thank you for your help," he said, replacing Peter's hand with his own, pressing the wadded glove to the wound. "I can take it from here."

Peter shifted from foot to foot anxiously, and then he said, "I'm really sorry—at least I think I am—but I can't let you go."

He snapped out a foot, catching Bucky in the gut, and sending him flying back into the wall. With a spurt of web from each wrist, he stuck Bucky's hands to the bricks. 

Bucky grunted with pain and said, "Look, bud, I know why you think you should do this, but I'm not what you think I am. I'm not going to hurt anyone."

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I want to believe that, since you were helping when taser guy showed up, and I read stuff about you after the Black Widow dumped all the Hydra files online, but how do I know you're not dangerous now? I can't just let you go."

"Please, kid. You've got to let me go."

"I can't," Peter said, sounding genuinely regretful. "I have to… I've got to think. I can't call the cops since they're useless against someone like, well, you. Mr. Stark? Yeah. It's got to be him. I'll—"

He cut off, and his head snapped left. Bucky heard what had drawn his attention, too— racing footsteps and voices talking. He knew the voices, and he felt a wave of relief as he realized who was coming for them.

Peter backed away, and his head whipped between Bucky and the mouth of the alley as Steve, Natasha, and Tony appeared. Steve rushed forward, then stopped, taking in Bucky webbed to the wall and Peter standing with his fingers poised over the triggers to his web-shooters.

Steve held up his hands and said, "Okay, kid, we can take it from here.

Peter tilted his head to the side, his eyeline falling on Tony, who looked pained. Bucky could tell Peter was struggling not to talk, perhaps undecided between keeping his identity secret and telling them what happened.

Tony gave Peter a small smile and said, "We've got it. He's safe."

"He's bleeding," Natasha said, eyes raking over Bucky's wet sleeve.

Steve cursed and rushed to Bucky, pressing down hard on the wound, making Bucky hiss between his teeth.

"We've got him, kid," Tony said. "You should go." When Peter failed to move, Tony held up his hands and said, "You can trust us."

Peter shifted from foot to foot and then nodded. He scaled the wall in swift movements and then disappeared onto the roof. Bucky heard his footsteps across the roof, then the thwip of a web being shot out.

When the sounds of Peter's retreat faded, he said, "He's gone."

Natasha nodded and pulled a knife from her boot and cut away the webs. Bucky favored his injured arm and winced as the pain burned and his head swam. He'd lost a lot of blood. More pressing than that thought was what had happened, though, and he fixed his eyes on Steve, seeing the horror when he said, "Zemo was here…" He licked his lips. "He used the words. I'm still programmed."

Steve jerked visibly as if shocked the way Bucky had been. "You were programmed again?"

Bucky nodded. "Peter broke the hold, but it was close. I could have…" He closed his eyes. "I could have killed him."

There was a rough curse, footsteps, and then Tony's fist slammed into Bucky's jaw. Bucky's head rocked to the side, more shocked than hurt, and then he met Tony's eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, voice wrecked.

"You could have killed my son," Tony snarled.

"I know," Bucky said.

Tony answered through gritted teeth. "You shouldn't have come here."

Bucky bowed his head. "I know."

"Get him back to the tower, take the car, and fix him up," Tony growled. "Do it yourselves. I'm not having more of my staff hiding who he is from the authorities, not after this."

"What are you going to do?" Natasha asked, tone neutral.

"I'm walking home," Tony said. "Then I'm going to call my kid and make sure he's okay, since he's now hiding what he knows from the authorities, too." He pointed an accusing finger at Bucky and said, "Thanks to you, my kid's keeping an even bigger secret than before. You have screwed him over, Barnes, because you were being a selfish asshole."

Bucky winced. As harsh as the words were, it was the return to the use of his last name that hurt more. More painful than that, though, was the horror of what he had almost done.

Because of his selfish need to see Peter, his stupidity, he could have hurt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… That happened. Bucky being programmed was the plan from the very beginning of the story, but its placement moved up and down the timeline. I actually wrote it for this place, then decided it was too soon and deleted it. Snarks and I hammered out the details, though, and decided this was the right place for it.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday Everyone!  
> How’s your weeks going so far? Mine had been a bit crazy. I’ve not been writing because of family struggles, but I’d already committed to giving myself a week off with all the pressure I was under with the next chapter. Good news, though, Gredelina1 and I are working through the chapters I’ve written and we’re almost at the end. When we reach the last of the written chapters, I’ll have someone that knows the story I can talk out issues with. That’ll be good as no one has read the story in its entirety apart from me.

“Okay, Bucky, I’m going in,” Natasha said, lowering the forceps towards the wound.

Bucky gritted his teeth and looked away. Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s back, both comfort and support. He knew himself how much a bullet hurt when it was being pulled out, as Natasha had done it for him more than once during their days as outlaws, when they were without access to med teams and hospitals and got hurt on their missions.

Bucky didn't lean against him, though, not even when the forceps were digging into his flesh. Steve knew he was in pain, he could see it in his eyes, but he wasn’t allowing it to show. Steve wasn’t sure if that was because he was determined to be strong, to take the pain, or if it was because his internal torment was more overwhelming.

Steve knew Bucky was torn up by what had happened, what had almost happened. Steve was horrified by the thought of it, too. Peter would have survived, no matter what the Winter Soldier had done to him when he was dominant over Bucky, but he could have suffered. None of them wanted to hurt Peter; they loved him and wanted to protect him from any pain that might come, but they had the least chance of being the ones to injure Peter compared to Bucky.

Steve knew his friend was in hell.

When Friday had alerted them to the fact Bucky had been caught on a Queens traffic camera, Steve had been shocked. He understood Bucky wanted to see Peter, but he was risking being locked up on the Raft if someone else saw him. He’d shared Tony’s anger as they drove to Queens to pick him up, and he’d prepared a lecture to tell Bucky just how stupid he was being. He couldn’t have imagined what they would find when they got there, though.

There was a scrape of metal, a quick breath from Bucky, and then Natasha was plucking out the bullet and raising it to her eyes. “Custom nine mil,” she said. “No rifling.”

Bucky shook his head. “He had a silencer on it. The intent wasn’t to kill—he just wanted to incapacitate me. He used a taser second.”

“How do you think he found you?” Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. “Same way you did, maybe. He knew who I was, even with the disguise.”

“Disguise?” Natasha snorted. “Bucky, a baseball cap and pair of gloves is not a disguise in New York City. What were you thinking?”

“Nat,” Steve said, voice soft; he thought Bucky was already torn up about what happened without her adding to it.

“No, it’s a fair question,” Bucky said, tugging his t-shirt sleeve down over the dressing she’d just applied and sliding off the cot. He walked back and forth a moment, brow deeply furrowed, and then stopped and said, “I had to see Peter. I can’t explain it to you, Nat, since you don’t feel the same way about him that we do, but it’s more than a want—it’s a need, this drive to make sure he’s okay.”

“I get that, but it was stupid.”

Bucky nodded. “It was. Even without what happened, going there was a mistake.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I won’t be making the same mistake again. I can’t. I could have…” He winced. “It was so close.”

“You didn’t hurt him, though,” Steve reminded him. “He’s fine.”

“No,” a rough voice said from the doorway. “He’s confused and now keeping a huge secret since he knows the Winter Soldier is back in the US.”

Steve turned to see Tony standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes blazing with anger.

“Have you spoken to him?” Natasha asked.

Tony softened the smallest amount. "Yeah. I told him I had business in Queens, and it made me want to check in with him. I've arranged an extra lab session for tomorrow afternoon. He sounded a little wired, which makes sense, but he didn't offer up anything about Spider-Man. I told him that we’ve got a situation we’re dealing with, a friend that we’re protecting who’s in a tough spot.” He narrowed his eyes. “He has no idea how close he came to dying tonight if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Tony, I…” Bucky said, then stopped and bowed his head.

“Are you going to say you’re sorry? Because I don’t want to hear it. You almost killed my son, Barnes.

“Bucky wouldn’t have killed him,” Steve said, knowing it without a doubt. “He’d never hurt him.”

“No?” Tony asked. “So I imagined him telling us he almost did?”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “He wouldn’t hurt Queens. You know how much he loves him.”

“Yeah? Last I checked, he loved you, too, but I seem to remember a romp through DC in which he tried to kill you a few times.”

“And then he saved me,” Steve said. “And that was when he was under Hydra’s control. He broke out of it a lot faster with Queens than he did with me. Bucky _cannot_ hurt him, and you know it.”

Tony glared at Steve, eyes dark with anger, and then he turned to Bucky and said, “You know you can’t see him again, right?”

Bucky nodded and muttered, “Yeah, I know.”

“We’ve got to get the programming out,” Natasha said. “We all messed up on that. We assumed it was gone because it was gone in 2023, but it’s obviously not in him the way we thought. It’s something to do with brain chemistry, not something connected to his soul or consciousness.”

“BARF,” Steve said. “You’ve got it here, right?”

“I have,” Tony said. “But I’m not confident that will be enough.”

“It was for Peter,” Natasha said, frowning. “Bruce told me.”

“Yeah, but we had the Stones backing us up then. They could tell us the programming was gone. We don’t have that with Bucky.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest again, jaw set. “I think you’d be better going back to Wakanda to have it wiped.”

Bucky visibly flinched, but he didn't speak.

Steve felt heat rise in his cheeks as anger peaked. “No, Tony! You know what going to Wakanda means—Thuri. You can’t send Bucky to him and expect him not to kill him after what he did to Peter.”

“He’ll have to control himself,” Tony said implacably.

“Thuri is the man that programmed Peter,” Natasha said. “The one Bucky killed when you rescued him from the Raft?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “He tortured Peter for weeks.”

Natasha fixed shrewd eyes on Tony. “Is this about you wanting revenge for what could have happened, or do you really think BARF won’t be enough?”

Tony glared back at her. “It’s about being safe.”

“No,” Steve said. “This is about revenge. Bucky is not going to Thuri for this. We will use BARF.”

Tony shrugged. “Fine, but you’re not going near my kid again.”

“I know,” Bucky said. “But we’ve got other problems than just the programming now, and we’ve got a bigger asset. Zemo wanted me to spy on you all, to pass back what you were saying and planning.” He pulled a phone out of his pocket and said, “He gave me this.”

“Zemo,” Tony said, some of his fury seeming to be leaving him as the tactical advantage of what occurred dawned on him. “He must have got the words from Karpov. Hell, he could have programmed Josef, too. He's got to be with Ego.”

“I think he is,” Bucky said. “He was referring to a ‘they,’ which I think is Nemesis. He said they thought I was back, too, because they saw me in Queens. I shot him, but it’s probably not fatal. He took off, and I’m guessing he went to get help.”

“This is good,” Natasha said. “We’ve got an advantage here. We know they want access to what we’re doing and that they’re willing to use Bucky for it. We can use that against them. Keep Bucky on their side, make them think he’s programmed still, and he can feed back what we want them to think.”

“You think we can trick Nemesis?” Tony asked.

“I think we’ve got a chance,” Natasha said. “Right now, we’ve got the loose plan of supporting Peter and making him the right person to snap. We don’t know how to do that, and we don’t know what Nemesis is going to be sending after him to push him in the other direction. We don't know what they plan to use Josef for or even where he is. We've not tracked him at all. And Zemo was in Queens without us picking him up on any surveillance."

“He was wearing a motorcycle helmet,” Bucky said.

Natasha nodded. “That explains that then. But this is good. If we can get inside information on their plan, we’ll have an advantage. We start by getting the programming out, and then we'll feed them information—nothing important, nothing that will help them against Peter. We can get Bucky into a position of trust so they tell us what they're doing."

Tony considered. “Okay. Yes. We can do that. We are getting the programming out first, though, and we’re locking you down properly this time. I mean it, Barnes—no more midnight strolls around the compound. If you’re staying in the US, you’re staying _inside_ the compound.”

Bucky nodded grimly. “Agreed.”

"Do you have BARF here, or is it upstate?" Natasha asked.

“It’s here,” Tony said. “I want those words powered down now. I’ll call off the lawyers for a couple days. We’ve got T’Challa and the other representatives coming Thursday, and I’m here tomorrow to see Peter.” He ran a hand through his hair. “BARF first, then we’ll start working out a game plan.” He looked at Bucky, his face unreadable, and then he said, “I don’t want to send you to Thuri, Bucky, but if I’m not sure you’re safe, that’s where you’re going. Understand?”

Steve was pleased that Tony had softened his tone and that he was no longer calling him 'Barnes,' but Bucky looked as wretched as ever.

“I understand. If I’m not sure I’m safe, I’ll take myself there without hesitation.” He fixed his eyes on Tony. “I know you’re angry, but you can’t be as angry as I am at myself. I know what could have happened. I’m not forgiving myself for putting him at risk, not ever. You know how much I love Peter.”

“I do,” Tony said with a curt nod. “Let’s go. I want this done.”

Bucky followed him to the door, Natasha going after them. Steve cleared the remnants of Natasha’s field surgery away, so as not to leave the med team with questions when they came in, and then went after them.

He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Bucky going through BARF, but he knew it was the best way to do it. The only other option was to send Bucky to Wakanda, and Steve would fight tooth and nail to avoid that.

He didn’t want Bucky to be forced to face Thuri again.

xXx

Tony handed Bucky the glasses and said, “You know how it works; the program will tap into what you need to see, and you’ve got to beat the illusion.”

Bucky nodded stiffly. “I’ve got it. I can do this.”

“You can,” Steve said. “We all know it. Just let it happen. Remember how it worked for Queens. You’ve got to pull it together the way he did.”

He stepped back, and Bucky reached to his shoulder, tugging and removing his new prosthetic arm. Tony took it from him without comment and carried it over to the table.

“You don’t need to do that, Buck,” Steve said, not liking the vulnerable way Bucky looked without the arm.

“I do,” Bucky said. “If I’m triggered, I’m going to be a lot easier to take down without that additional weapon.”

“True,” Tony said. “And we can’t lock you down for it. You need to be able to interact with the simulation.” He stepped back and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Bucky moved to the rear wall of the lab, in front of the clear expanse of concrete wall, and raised his hand as if to put the glasses on. Before he could, though, there was movement behind them, and Vision drifted through the wall. Though it wasn’t Vision—his eyes were the brighter yellow they now knew meant Mind was in control.

“Good timing,” Tony said. “You can hold him down better than any of us.”

Vision nodded. “I wanted to offer my help, and Peter had a message for Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky’s head snapped around. “He did? Is he okay?”

“He is healing,” Vision said. “And he is concerned for you. He wanted me to see you, to tell you he will be here for you when you need him. We didn’t expect you would be doing this already, though I suppose we should have.”

Bucky smiled, seeming far more relaxed now than he had been since they found him in that alley with Peter. “Tell him I’m sorry for what happened. I’d never have wanted to scare him, and I never would have hurt him willingly.”

“He knows,” Vision said. “He is more scared for you now. He knew you would come to BARF as a solution, and he remembers the difficulty of it. But he knows you can do it, as he could.”

Bucky shook his head, eyes fond. “He’s overestimating how strong I am compared to him.”

“No, he is not,” Vision said simply. “You can tell him whatever you need soon.”

Bucky looked puzzled, but Tony was clearly impatient as he said, “Come on, Bucky, get going.”

Bucky looked at Vision a moment, seeming to be on the verge of speech, and then he shook his head and put on the glasses.

As he had with Peter, Steve watched the scene form, but it was not the one he was expecting. He imagined Bucky would be in the alley again, facing Zemo as he shot and triggered him, or perhaps in a Hydra base with his handler. However, he was in what looked like a Hydra bunker, strapped down, and he was alone. He also had both arms in the simulation, though one was the Hydra one he’d worn before Tony had replaced it and taken the Hydra one to be melted into scrap.

The door opened, and Steve expected a Hydra agent, but instead, it was a familiar person that came in. It was the Peter they knew in 2023, the rainbow eyes, the hair that needed to be trimmed. His eyes were sad as he approached Bucky, though.

“Hey, Bucky,” he said with a small smile, his voice soft.

"You shouldn't be here, kid," Bucky said. "It's not safe."

Peter shrugged. “It’s safe for me, really, and I wanted to see you.” He placed his hand in Bucky’s metal one and gave it a small squeeze. Bucky tried to pull away, but the restraints that held him to the chair were too strong.

“I didn’t know when to come,” the kid said sadly. “I thought about it a lot, because I knew you wouldn’t remember it when they used the words on you, but I figured now was the right time. They’re going to come for you soon, Bucky, and they’re going to send you after Captain America.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Steve! He’s alive!”

“This is when Peter came to him,” Tony said with a tone of dawning realization. “When he went back to help him.”

“It is,” Steve said, a small smile curling his lips as he witnessed what had been a defining moment for his best friend, knowing the difference it had made for him after.

Peter sighed. "I guess they didn't even tell you that much. Figures. Yeah. Steve is alive, and he's not a wrinkly old man. He was frozen in the ice, kinda like you were here. He's back now, and he's got a new team." He leaned closer. "Bucky, you won't remember all of this, I know, but I need to tell you anyway. This will be your last mission for Hydra. It's all going to change from here."

"Who the hell are—" Bucky stopped, his eyes clearing and a broad smile curling his lips as Steve realized he recognized the memory and situation of BARF. just as Peter had. "Hey, bud."

Peter beamed. “Hey, Bucky.”

Bucky bit his lip. “I miss you. Is it you?”

"I miss you, too, And it really is me—I'm here. I worked out a way to use Mind and Time to come while your mind is open with the simulation.” He looked around as if searching for others but seemed to see none of them, even though Tony stepped forward and breathed his name. “Can you tell them all I’m sorry? I really am. I wouldn’t have sent you if I had a choice.”

“We know,” Bucky said. “We all understand why you had to. We don’t mind it. We want to be here for you.”

Peter smiled. “I figured you would.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Damn, this is so hard. I want to stay, but I can’t. You need to see it through, face it.”

Bucky’s face fell. “Now?”

Peter smiled sympathetically. “Now.”

“Can you come back?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s too hard for me to reach you in your dreams the way I can when you’re close. I’ll try, though. Besides, it’s not like I’m not with you here. You’ve got me.”

“ _I_ won’t have you, though,” Bucky said, obvious regret in his voice.

“You will. Once the programming is gone, you can see me. I can keep a secret, and it’s not like I don’t know you’re here now.”

“I think Tony might have a few objections to that,” Bucky said.

Peter’s lips curved with a smile. “I’m sure he will, but he knows me better than to think I’d tell anyone.”

“That’s not the problem for him.”

“No, maybe not, but you’ll be safe once the words are gone.” He grinned. “If he argues, tell him I’m pulling teen-angst rank.”

Bucky laughed. “He’s watching this, you know?”

Peter’s lips turned down. “I know. This is so hard. God, I miss you all so much. But if he’s watching, he’s listening, too, so he knows I _want_ to see you. He won’t take that away from me.” He chuckled. “It’s a bit different for me where I’m at now, here, fourteen, since I won’t know what it means to you or me, but tell him he needs to share.”

Tony laughed, running a hand over his face. “Damn, kid, way to spoil my fun.”

Steve grinned. “You know he’s right—once the words are dealt with, there’s no reason to keep him away from Bucky.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Tony said. “No one else is meeting him until the Accords are dealt with, though.”

Peter squeezed Bucky’s hand and said, “Are you ready?”

Bucky nodded. “I think so.”

“I know so,” Peter said. “Remember, you have the power here. You have beaten them before, and you will again.” He stepped back, giving Bucky space, which he seemed to resent, and then said, “Go on, Bucky.”

Bucky nodded, closed his eyes, then opened them, and said, "Come on them, you bastard.”

The door opened, and a man walked in. He was wearing black fatigues, and his dark brows were contracted over his eyes. He approached Bucky, who shot Peter a look and received a nod and smile in return.

Bucky took a breath as the man took a red notebook from his pocket and said, “You are needed, Soldier.”

“You’re okay, Bucky,” Peter murmured. “I’m here.”

Steve saw the softening in Bucky’s eyes at the words, and then they hardened as the man began to recite the words. Желание. Ржавый. Семнадцать. Рассвет.”

Steve saw Bucky’s eyes drifting, becoming unfocused, and Peter moved closer and said, “Bucky, fight it!”

The man went on, “Печь. Девять. Добросердечный,” and Bucky’s lips parted.

“It’s not working,” Tony said. “I knew it! He can’t do it.”

“Give him time,” Steve said, his voice taking on a hint of pleading. “Give him a chance.”

“Возвращение на родину. Один—”

“No…” Bucky said, his voice weak, and then becoming stronger as he repeated, “No!”

Peter grinned.

“He’s doing it,” Steve said. “Watch.”

Bucky’s eyes became hard, his jaw tight, and he said, “I will not comply! Желание. No! Ржавый. No!”

Steve's eye moved between Bucky as he repeated each trigger word followed by negation, to Peter, whose eyes were blazing with pride.

Bucky was panting as he finished, “Один. No! Грузовой вагон. No! You do not control me!"

With a growl and heaving chest, he wrenched his arms up, out of the restraints, and jumped to his feet. He advanced on the handler, his eyes dark with fury, speeding when he backed away and grabbing the man around the throat. He lifted him a clear foot in the air, the man’s face reddening and his mouth gaping as he tried to draw breath.

Bucky looked over his shoulder and said, “Peter?” in a way that sounded as if he was asking for permission.

“Do it,” Peter said, his eyes troubled. “You have to.”

Bucky fixed his eyes on the man gripped in his metal hand again and said, “I am Bucky Barnes. I am _not_ the Winter Soldier. I am my own man. No one commands me.” He snapped his wrist to the right, breaking the man’s neck and then throwing his body away onto the floor. He stared at him a moment and then turned to Peter, a wary look in his eyes.

Peter walked towards him, and Bucky seemed to hesitate on the verge of moving back. Peter shook his head, though, and wrapped his arms around Bucky. Bucky sagged with relief and rested his cheek against Peter’s head, wrapping his arms tight around him.

“Is that enough?” Natasha asked. “Is it done?”

“It’s what Peter did,” Tony said. “So I'd say yes." He turned to Vision, who was watching Peter and Bucky with a strangely fond look in his eyes. “Is it done?”

He nodded. “He is free of the programming, yes. Peter would know if he was not.”

“And he definitely knows he is,” Steve said, his voice fond as he watched Bucky and Peter embrace.

Peter and Bucky parted, and Bucky pushed Peter’s hair back from his face. “Can you stay?”

Peter shook his head. “I wish I could, but I need to rest. This is hard to do. Mind will come back, though, and he’ll help.”

“You can’t come back?” Bucky asked, eyes sad and lips turned down at the corners.

Peter shrugged. “I don’t think so. This was a unique situation here, with BARF. But, like I said, you have me here still. It’s not me-me, but that’s who I’m becoming.” He gave Bucky one last hug, closed his eyes, and said, "Tell them all I said thank you," and then stepped back and disappeared.

Bucky stared at the place he had been a moment and then took off the glasses and sighed.

The dark room he had been in disappeared, his metal arm vanished, and he walked towards them and handed Tony the glasses, which he tucked into his pocket.

“Did you see him, too?” Bucky asked eagerly.

“We did,” Tony said, fondness mingled with regret in his eyes. “We saw it all.”

Bucky looked at Vision, seeming surprised when he noted that it was Mind.

Vision smiled and said, “It is gone, and I must go, too. Peter is tired and needs rest.”

“Thank him for us,” Steve said. “Tell him it was good to see him.”

He nodded. “I will, but I am sure he will already know.”

He looked between Tony and Bucky, an enigmatic smile on his face, and then his eyes cleared to the muted yellow of Vision, not Mind, and he rubbed his temples.

“That is quite disconcerting, you know,” Vision said conversationally.

“Yeah, I bet,” Tony said sympathetically. “But it’s good for us when it happens.”

Steve smiled, seeing the distant but happy look in Bucky’s eyes. He guessed Bucky’s mind was with Peter still and the time he’d spent with him. Steve wished he’d had the chance to be with him, too, but he was glad for his friend to have that comfort and support during what must have been a nightmare situation.

But it was done, Bucky’s mind belonged to him and him alone, and now they had an advantage in the fight.

If they could maintain Bucky’s cover, they could feed information to the enemy and gather intelligence in return.

Steve thought things were working in their favor for a change, and he was glad of it. He’d just seen the kid he loved and that they were fighting to protect as he was when he knew him best, and that gave him a new drive to make this work.

Peter needed to be protected, the world needed to be, and they were going to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… We had BARF, and we had Peter! I enjoyed writing this chapter as it was great to have Peter as we know him best for a while. I wasn't originally going to do that. I didn't plan to have 'our' Peter in the story until the very end, but the idea came, and I ran with it.  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx

**Author's Note:**

> So… Welcome to Story V. I have been waiting to get to this one from almost the very beginning. As soon as I realized With Great Power was going to be part of a series, I knew I wanted to use time travel, and this idea presented itself. It has the plot I’m most excited about out of all the stories.  
> Ross is back, of course. He was too rich a character to leave on Gryn Fylds forever. This time he’s doubled up on power as one side of Nemesis.  
> You know from the summary that Tony is going back with Ross, and I’d like to know if you’ve got any guesses of who else is going. I can tell you there will be four characters sent back to 2016. Who do you think it will be?  
> Until next time…  
> Jadey xxx


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